


Memoirs of the Lost Loser

by sultryzucchini



Series: Loser Duo [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Canon, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Character Development, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Headcanon, Multi, Multiverse, Plot tweaks, Reader-Insert, Romance, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 89,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26342122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultryzucchini/pseuds/sultryzucchini
Summary: Regarded as a genius since birth, Reader has lost her luster when her parents insist to replace her brilliance in tinkering by literature.Working on sidelines as she tries to make sense on whatever scrap of affection she has for Jane Austen and the vampire genre, she came across Isayama's work: Attack on Titan.Her fascination inspired her to do the unthinkable: Theorize the existence of Multiverse and wander in it, herself.But if she succeeds, how does she get back?One-shot at 34.
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Reader, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader, Levi/Petra Ral, Mike Zacharias/Reader, Nanaba/Mike Zacharias
Series: Loser Duo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096424
Comments: 287
Kudos: 349





	1. Fruit

"Ma'am if you would reconsider—"

"Miss, your understanding is just not cutting it. You write eloquently, yes, it looks like you have a deep comprehension of the book, but..." the woman in her 50s showed her resignation in a long sigh, apparently tired of your incessant pleads regarding the paper you wrote as an insight to the book assigned for the final term. "It's enough to give you a doctorate but I don't think you should pursue this career anymore."

Despite the bitter ending remark your professor has given you, you couldn't contain the in-betweens of them. _"enough to give you a doctorate..."_ Your smile started to show, much to the old woman's surprise. It was obvious she was expecting more of your pleads that also started to annoy you, and you can't be happier when she threw the words that says your paper is enough to give you just what you want. _Fina-fucking-lly!_

"Then ma'am, I'm in for a graduation waiting list then?"

"You sure are. You haven't checked the bulletin?"

"No, not yet."

"You're bound to graduate. But given your parents' reputation, you shouldn't stick in writing books."

_I know that much. I suck._ But the glimmer in your face didn't fade despite the sour, unsolicited advice.

* * *

Almost midnight, the hallway to your apartment was quieter than its day counterpart. Another day, another day, you thought, removing the messenger bag that seemed to hate you more than usual, thanks to that strain in your shoulder. You have a list in your head: the manga just beside your pillows waiting for you, tempting you to skip the yoga and shower you do as nightly routine. With what is left in your self discipline, you muster to finish the two more tasks, and hop on to the latest chapter when the main character becomes a giant spine/centipede while taller than dick titans stomp everything and everyone in sight.

It wasn't delightful, no, it felt _horrible_ , but a surge of pride and victory course through you. No one champions on genocide, but man, the feeling that all those years people in that little, tiny island get chomp down like peanuts by creepy ass giant weirdoes is just difficult to stomach. And besides, _besides_ , the titans are not even at fault here. The Marleyan government are. People who have no business or knowledge of the whole gruesome history of Eldian kingdom once upon a time, shouldn't be caught upon, and shouldn't be prosecuted for something they have not done.

But genocide is just plain wrong. In short, Eren is a spineful of an asshole

Why didn't Jane Austen and Conan Doyle think about this?

You slammed your head in your pillows, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins; the recent chapter really blew your head. The light headedness, taking its course as a thought light up like a bulb: you practically agree with the thought of multiverse... so why not make one to travel?

_Are you insane?_ Probably. You wouldn't be called a genius with 200 IQ points and be called a normie.

Then the incompetence hit you like volleyball in the face. If you push through engineering or robotics, like how you would love to, maybe you wouldn't feel this empty and lost. Maybe at the end of the day, you wouldn't be graduating with a PhD in Literature and is not expected to sign on smut books and light novels in book fares. You couldn't do that, your professor said you suck and you could never agree more. You tapped over your phone, sent a text and hopefully receive a positive reply before your morning tea.

* * *

_Sure, why not? Come meet me @ lab 9 pm. Bring ID. Protocol is a bitch._

Arianne, a triple PhD holder greeted you and your notes like an old friend that you are in the gates. The security's tight for people who have no business in the lab, but you are an intern by payroll and a regular employee by workload who, by special privilege thanks to your brain, helps them brainstorm theories and spot loopholes over formulae. Her ideas doesn't come when sober, but her work ethic is as refined as the outfits of a queen.

But like any other rule, there's an exception to that.

"We still working on a triple sandwich this time?" You asked, laying down your own notebook where ideas and information are jotted for easier retrieval.

"Yeah, months since you came, but thanks about that triple sandwich," as she lifted her arms to press a button. "here's to show my appreciation."

And then the iron walls split wide and loud.

Far away is a wide, almost infinite space. Not one color but true black coated of what lies beneath near the door nearby. Far adjacent was a circular podium, and it seems that light penetrates beneath it, like an otherworldly glow when someone decided to dig.

And your eyes could only glow for such an achievement for science, technology and humanity. Your toes curled inside your shoes, you skin crawled with excitement, your blood pumping faster than your heart can keep up. This is it. This is the fruit of all the assistance you gave Arianne in proving your theory of multiverse.

"Does it work?" You asked, of all the things you wanted to know, you have to start somewhere.

"Well, yes, dumbass!" She answered back, slapping your arm to keep your consciousness on the ground. "It's just half-ass though. We tried sending AIs and see if we can get them back, at short distances, yes, it's working."

"How far?" Your eyes still fixed on the glowing circle in the middle of the void.

"Let's say here to Japan. We got the some souvenirs picked up by Jordan." She was referring to the robot. It's far; far enough to travel without a plane and come back in 1 piece by mere seconds. This is promising.

"Margins?"

"I'd say 5% but if you're really careful, 10."

"Up for human—"

"Mm-mm." She said, before you grab a suit and hop on that circle. Your excitement— that's an understatement, ecstatic drumming in your ears as everything doesn't matter for seconds and minutes go pass unnoticed. You're barely listening, your salivating to hop on and go to— go to where exactly?

It has been decided hasn't it?

"We haven't tried it on living creatures, girl. Don't you dare hop on and try."

"Arianne, I've worked for this. I did the computation, I proved _my_ theory, I helped you with the parts. If there's something I want back, that's not the minimum wage." You're hands are flailing while you try to make a point. She was only looking at you with disapproval in a scowl. Her hands on her hips, she took advantage of the height difference, when she ruffled your hair.

"I know shortcake. But do you even how to put on the location you wanna try? Because seriously, I know you won't settle somewhere in this planet." She was right.

"Then that's something I get to work right now." you took the marker and started to write number and letters and things that don't make sense to Arianne, given the way that she tilts her hear as she tried to comprehend whatever bullshit you write. For every wave of your hand to meet a stroke, for every line that you decisively draw was the motivation to visit a world you want to know more about. It's not the Marvel Universe, Dr. Who or One Piece, but a universe where you could get killed anytime. You're not even a fighter, and you're definitely not physically ready for any combat situation. But damn it all to hell if you don't grab this opportunity.

"There, done. Can I go now?" You said, after hours of absolute concentration, 2 whiteboards and 2 markers, firm resolution and unsteady breaths. You wrote one more piece just the highest of them all, you barely reached it.

ATTACK ON TITAN UNIVERSE.

* * *

The test run started a month ago, and although Arianne is hesitant with your plan in going to some 'punyverse' as she calls it, you were unfazed.

Graduation? That's just a ceremony, you can take the diploma later.

Part-time job? Quitted that shit already, you have a lot of those and passive income too.

Friends? Arianne is one, your dildo is another.

Boyfriend? Nah. 2D guys tops your heart.

_Parents?_

That's where the concern starts. As frequent as they checked up on you, they were ecstatic when you told them you're in the list of grad-waiting students. You left out that part where you won’t be graduating with honors, as the conversation might turn sour. The whole business of colorful circle and universe travel still unknown to them, and you don't think you'll be telling them anytime soon. For Pete's sake, as much as you were diagnosed to be a genius, you lack the social disposition to be the mascot they wanted to have.

Your parents are famous writers.

You're the prodigious savant who crawls to be like them.

In fact, you're more interested in the life outside of books they write. Outside the smut, the historical romance genre, the thriller genre and other genre they decide to pick and dissect. You're not a writer. Never is, never will be. So what do you want? Adventure! the Romance! (not in the sexual way!) the thrill of new places to explore!

You wanted to be a physicist and an engineer, the duo where the brain works, and the hands create.

But you don't want to disappoint them too.

Sighing, as the last of the stuff you need is in place, you set out to Arianne's lab, hoping to find peace in distraction with the new world you're about to venture.

* * *

"F/N, you shouldn't do this, it's not worth it." You looked at her, her hesitation apparent in her eyes. Maybe she's right. This is wrong; you're leaving a life behind you for probably 3 months or 6. Probably a year. It's just a quick tour, nothing to worry about. Right? You're gonna be fine. You've thought through this. It's the same answer over and over.

You want to see it.

You smiled at the long term friend. She's been there since high school, the weird duo who have no time for boys or make up, but have no problem solving mathematical equations with greasy hands. You skipped a couple of grades, you enrolled in college together, she skipped a couple of years and petitioned to take her national exams earlier, while you crawl your way through your parents' expectations. She honed her skills in engineering, and you're trusting her with this creation you both perspired for, and you can bet a life— your life on it.

This will not let you down.

"Here's your key back. Don't lose it." She said, giving you a miniature version of the port you're about to step on. "Be careful. I'm gonna read that book you wanted me to read."

"It's manga, actually."

"As long as it's paper and bound, it's a book."

"Tell that to your loose thesis okay?" _You stepped on the platform..._

"Shut up, I got to present that nationally." _It's conveying to the port..._

"You're welcome, Arianne." _And you step a foot on the port._

"See you later, bitch." _And another._

_That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind._

There was a flash of light.

Two seconds where all the air ran out.

And you found yourself in undertones of green grass, 50 meter wall towering over you.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triple sandwich is something that I came up with when I was trying to 'understand' (silly me. Can't possibly understand something so in-depth!) theories on alternate and multiverse.
> 
> One theory said that the inflation did not create linear, ever expanding universe where stuff just forms. Some articles says it could be 3 dimensional, hence the triple sandwich. 
> 
>   
> Disclaimer: I'm not a physicist, just your average student ogling at 2D guys while on caffeine.


	2. The Second Mouse Gets the Cheese

This is not how you imagined it to be.

This _is not how you imagined it to be._

This **is not how you imagined it to be!**

You didn't become 2-D, you're still the same flesh and bones that you are. You ran your hands over the grass, _familiar_. Not 2-dimensional. You looked around you, greens, and greens and wall. A 50-meter wall. And houses! Houses and other infrastructures you see in the manga and anime!

_My God. You're really here._

The realization hit you. You're not in your world anymore. No cellphone, no electricity, no decent apartment, no job, and no friends. Just famine, epidemic (probably) in an unknown territory, and titans! The first thing to do now is to look for a place to stay. You don't even have their currency and what currency do they use anyway? Dollars? Euro? Peso? Plain gold coin? Do they even use silver? Bronze?

You changed your clothes. The long skirt and shirt in earthy tones to look like an Eldian. Your thoughts racing about things you have to explore. Going outside the walls is a no-go, at least not yet. You covered your luggage with a cloth to look normal; heck, the gigantic bulk sticking like a sore thumb, as the design of your backpack in electric blue and gray would send an alarm to the Military Police. You don't want them confiscating your stuff, do you?

Then it dawned to you: what year is it now?

The dread of knowing Paradis is still enclosed by walls sent shiver down your spine. Eren has not rampaged yet. It could be that this is post-breach of Wall Maria or...

pre-breach.

Your breaths become uneven. You hurried down civilization, dread almost consuming you. If anytime soon, Reiner and Berthold's going to kick the wall like soccer, you have to hurry. You need to go on a safe place. Where is a safe place? Underground? You need citizenship to be able to crawl back up. Does that take too long? Should you just lay low in the outskirts where titans can't come? Maybe climb the wall or a tree?

Who are you kidding? Soon, they're going to evacuate to wall Rose and you need to go with them. Climbing a low-ass tree with your physical condition and a bag pack no less is suicide. Your best bet is to ask the year, and plan from there.

The dread turns into excitement.

* * *

Uniformed men patrolled the dry, dusty, unpaved road of Shiganshina district, kind of inferencing that conclusion given how close the wall is and how cramped the buildings are. You see the typical things in a farmer's market, only a little stale. Apples, oranges, berries, carrots, potatoes... there were few meat stalls here and there. But much to your fascination, there's not a single stall for fishes. And you understood why. And then you see Hannes.

Hannes, like your typical guy you see everywhere in your world, you know, a little sunken on the cheeks, high cheek bones, except they wear a suit, and he wears a brown crop jacket. drunk runs as his middle name in a windy summer day, you observe him longer, and you can't help but think about the way he'll die over Dina's titan form.

So if Hannes is still a drunkard at this time of day... the answer was there. Another question was how much time do you have in your hands? You approach a vegetable seller— definitely not Hannes, as he's still part of the police— and like an automated reply, her cheerful welcome almost taking you aback.

"Hi, what year is it?" You asked, as calm and polite as you could be.

"What? I thought you're going to buy. What kind of question is that?" Well, yes, it's a weird question because you're not a native but they don't need to know about that. You decided to leave; the weird question might pose a problem, as the seller seems like the probing type.

"Nothing, just a little dizzy about numbers."

You wander a little more; nothing out of the ordinary, really. But Shiganshina spells like the things you were forced to read: the classic countryside 17th century. There were a few things you noticed though: aside from the blatant negligence of official duty of the Military Police, Shiganshina was lively, a little filthy and the dawning guilt that you can't tell them what will happen in the near future gnawed your insides. These people will be misplaced soon, many of them will die and many will carry the hatred as they join the military. And then you saw them:

Mikasa, Armin and Eren, in their most innocent.

Your best bet was to approach the 3, ask them the year, and decide from there. Although Armin is smart, he can't possibly know your motive nor what will happen next. And so you did. You rehearsed the voice, and then the face, and then the walk. _Don't be weird, don't be weird..._

"Hi," you said, your palms open, a sign of transparency as a book you read before would say. "Um, can I ask you kids a question?"

Armin was the first to be attentive, looking at him, you can't believe that soon, will be the brains of the Survey Corp. "Um, if we c-can, why not?" He said, hesitant or shy you couldn't tell. But you decided to proceed anyway.

"Do you know what year it is?" Armin tilted his head, his eyes curious, why would someone ask the year as if they're not from here? The realization of the curious question struck to him, but answered anyway.

And there goes the dread. It's 845.

You couldn't breathe, you looked at their clothes, it's the same as the one you read in the first chapters. Yes, anytime soon. Yes. The massacre in Wall Maria. Survey Corp just went for an expedition, and there's no one to defend Paradis. As much as you don't want to intervene, you don't have much of a choice, time is of essence and by the time Eren sees his mother eaten by Dina, he'll have that unwavering, crooked resolve to kill Titans, and everyone in the next couple of years.

"Eren, listen to me." You steady him— or yourself using the little boy as a support. Mikasa a little alarmed and Armin, alarmed but curious. You gulped on dry throat, the sun is almost at its faint yellow tones...

"Let's get to Carla, _now_." The alarm in your voice now apparent, and it scared them. There's not time to be scared they need to think fast—

"Why? What do you want with my mother?"

"That's not the point—"

**BANG!**

The time stopped for you, and everyone else in this peaceful little town.

The lightning had struck.

The next will be Berthold peeking from the walls.

And then the breach.

_Exhale, you can do this. You know what will happen, so you'll know what to do._

"Eren, let's go see your mother."

"Why—"

**"Now."** Your tone prompted them, but not enough to let them see the gravity of the situation. They stopped, and looked at the steam coming from outside the walls. The magnificent form and bare muscles of the Colossal titan peeking from the walls, and the next...

"Take fucking cover!" You took the trio, your bag should be enough cushion to absorb the shock from smaller debris, if there were falling unto you. You have to stick with them, as Hannes will soon come and get them...

Wait.

The part where they have to ride the steamboat, the refugees will be forced to throw their belongings. Your supplies, your necessities, the port... it will be gone the moment you ride that boat... one way to do it.

You gritted your teeth, you'll have to ride to the gate and leave these snotty brats behind. Fuck Hannes, you can't wait for him. You need a horse, but where? There.

Mind racing per millisecond, you devised a plan. And hence, a plan was created. Thank God for your brains.

* * *

A few minutes were all you need to play the plump disguise. The kids still preoccupied with the impending revelation, you took the chance to be in a corner, strip, and hide your bulked luggage behind the clothes. Thank goodness for maxi skirts and loose clothes. They won't cup a feel, no time for that shit. You headed for the steamboat, looking for a horse— yes, you're an equestrian now— and ride there.

Couple of hours, and you were one of the first to arrive in the safety of the wall Rose. You know the three kids are safe, but you don’t need to know them any longer. The smell of death and shock and anger putrid and assaulting on the nose. You can still hear the panic from the Military Police on the other side of the wall, and the second batch of grieving, traumatized refugees drowning the cries of those who arrived first. As alive as they are, but as silent as those who are dead. It was a macabre orchestra. A sonate of dark ages for Paradis. You could only observed at a distance.

They're mourning. What was the reason you wanted to witness this? Was it the blood? Did you love the gore? The thrill of probably monkeying around on a 3DMG?

You were hoping you'll find the better days.

You're a tourist; you wanted the good stuff from this universe, but the thing is, nothing is good out here. It's just the continuous, desperate fight of Eldians against a still unknown enemy. They don't have a clue, and you're not going to give it to them.

It's time to go back.

You reached for the port, clicked a button as it glowed to life.

You tapped the location by memory.

You stepped on it.

Nothing happened.

Panic surged through you, and did it again, this time, slower, careful.

It must be an error on your input, but it's definitely working. It should work.

Fuck.

You tried again.

You felt ice water poured on top of your head, your muscles tensed...

The port is not working.

The test runs worked! It should work! Why not now—

The answer is staring right in your face: the distance is practically unknown, and _untested_.

Now you're not a tourist anymore.

You're just a stranded outsider whose best bet is to join the Survey Corp to get out of this mess. The plan is laid, as fast as you can breathe.

Join the Survey Corp.

Go to Marley.

Steal their technology.

And never, ever get killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! 
> 
> Hope you're enjoying the story. A bit if a slow start, but I hope you get to enjoy this as the story unfolds.
> 
> See yah!


	3. Condescend and Descend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the timeline as she remembers, she begrudgingly signed her life away for that 3 gruesome years of training. 
> 
> Cracks of the genius are starting to show.

Was it 846 or 847? It was 847, your intuition told you.

Intuition is something you've always trusted. Not because you're a freaking hocus pocus, but because it has a basis in psychology... as much as you get sour over the subject due to countless test during your childhood.

_"You're an INTP..."_

_"Your IQ is like this..."_

_"She's a prodigious savant..."_

_"Her EQ, however is..."_

However they call you doesn't matter, without electricity you're pretty much a fish swimming on land, and well, while you were amazed the first time you read about da Vinci's flying machine, or a port for this matter, your body can't haul lumbers, hammer on nails, screw them nuts and bolts... you don't even know where to get huge amount of iron, copper, plastic, and other materials you'll definitely need unless you started to mine 2 years ago or some shit...

The point is, without the manpower, electricity and materials, it won't fucking work!

And it's almost 2 years...

You miss home already.

You stood, your trusty, disguised bagpack in your shoulders. You're looking at the life you made in the far end of wall Rose. An apprentice blacksmith (who usually makes copper pots and knives) by day, a cook by lunch, and an amateur singer at night... you know, money is money.

So much for a PhD.

But never did you let anyone know what kind of things you've been working on the sidelines. You know, your employer at the ironworks shouldn't know you're the person stealing the metal scraps just so you can make a prototype of an electricity generator by the time you get to the bottom of that cool, glowing cave under Reiss' chapel. Mind you, it's not going well. You need robot arms for the tiny handiwork. Even with dead fingernails, you're still pushing it through.

Or you can't let your employer at the eatery know you're stealing the potato scraps for dinner, as well as some food that might've been left unsold for the day.

As for money, trading that silky, Egyptian cotton towel from your precious bagpack earned you a guitar. You sing at public podiums and you get some coins. Few times, you get note bills. Apparently, they dig Ed Sheeran's songs.

But they don't need to know who he is.

And you're dreading the time you'll have to go under for 3 years:

Time sell your soul to the Training Corps.

_You can do this, tough nut. You don't have much of a choice_.

You reminded yourself again: _Stay fucking hidden._

* * *

You're almost seeing the river of afterlife courtesy of Instructor Keith Shadis' training regimen, and he is one intimidating son of a bitch. You'll let that flow out of your head, but definitely not on your mouth. Sure, countless youtube videos entertained you with military memes and awesome, synchronized footwork, but the training they have to undergo to do that no arm push-up?

"And who the fuck are you?" He sprayed spit on your face, and you tasted and smelled that distinct odor of someone who has not eaten anything for long periods of time.

It tasted and smelled like a week old shit.

You almost gagged in his face but tried to keep it in as you shout at the top of your lungs your _true_ intention in joining the military. Fist on your heart, back straight, feet together.

"Sir! Recruit F/N L/N and I want to be of use to humanity!"

True intention, yes, but only a little flowery, more euphemistic with the words. You're not a holder of PhD for Lit for nothing.

"And how the fuck do you think you can do that?"

"To use whatever I can think of to assist our victory over the titans!" _And so I can leave this god forsaken place!_

His tone soon after you said those words, were dripping in mockery.

"Oh? So you're going to think so you can give your life your bleeding ass to the cause?" Bleeding? _Shit. Am I due for today?_ The thought of laundering red cotton towelettes every night at least less than a week tightened your jaw momentarily. But never mind that, you stopped yourself from looking behind; but you can hear their nasal laughters.

_"Freak."_

_"She probably got ass fucked in the corner while we train."_

_"Someone went in dry."_

_"Disgusting."_

_"Slut on the very first day."_

And they think no one can hear them.

"Bleeding or not, as long as it gets the job done Sir!" Come to think of it, the way you said it connotes 2 meanings. _Well shit._ You've said it, and you're questioned longer than anyone prior you... and can anyone please give this guy a mouthwash? Mints?

The human plaque walked past you; but really, he may be intimidating, but as soon as the time passes, he didn't scare you. The snickers of mockery overruled the nervous energy. Women fucking menstruate. How backward are these guys in thinking? They think babies just goes out suddenly after one night of their father's weak pullout game? If they know, it's much more complicated than that, at least for them.

You've never been this humiliated before.

And your not one to forget anything anyway.

You looked around for those who laughed:

Jean Kirstein;

Connie Springer;

That black haired bitch with twin ponytail who thinks she's cute, but guess what? She's gonna die. Not important; aaand

Ymir, and even when she's gonna die, you can't let that remark go unnoticed.

Time to write some names in your list; the adrenaline pumping in your veins, your thin, weak muscles itching to start working at this very second. You don't know how long have you been staring seemingly blankly ahead, your facial muscles strained, but it took you too long to notice that most of the cadets are out to hit the showers. The grime, sweat, blood can be washed by the cold water waiting for you in the military style showers, but the humiliation and pride just stomped out from you? They think you're a disgusting freak? They have no idea, but it won't be you who's gonna get ass fucked.

Even the remark of a familiar manlet sporting an undercut got through your skin when he saw you hopping with a bloody ass and that coppery, fishy smell that lingered thereafter. And it's not even his division, so why is he here? Yes, it's disgusting, but imagine being rough out the very first day and you're freaking bleeding man. You gotta show that some dirty salute.

You paraded in the empty halls with a bloodied rear to your assigned room, humming a song under your breath as you device a prank enough to nib a bite off every fucking person who laughed. And you'll start with the men.

Your toiletries you made yourself on hand, you hop to hit the showers.

* * *

You strode to the bushes earlier than dawn, although it's Sunday, your nerves are raring to go and find that one plant to make people look like how they describe you to be. It's common to see poison ivy in the outskirts of Wall Rose, but no one seems to mind it, or be bothered to study it. You think, before they venture outside, maybe they should look around and study their own backyard. You mean, dude, you don't ever see it ever mentioned in the manga that they studied their flora and fauna! The studying of terrains is not enough, you gotta know the details too!

You waited for evening bath. There's usually the strict 3-minute baths in the morning, but Jean and Connie skips them. You've memorized their schedule already. You've been in this re-indocrination process for a whole a month now.

The next day, you were giddy to get up, but kept the smile on the low. A tray in your hand with the same, potatoes and carrots for breakfast.

"Connie, you bastard, what the hell did you give me last night?" First to arrive at the mess hall was Jean. Oho, that's double meaning right there.

"I got the usual Jean, this isn't my fault!"

A _red_ , blistering, itchy skinned Jean.

Then there's Connie with the same disgusting skin.

_Who's the freak now? Little fuckers._

You see, it's not uncommon for them to put something like leaves on their baths on a weekend. You noticed that pattern and took advantage of it. Connie is stupid, so you snuck the ground root straight to the male showers and rub the leaves to their change of clothes as almost everyone sleeps in on such a precious day-off. No one saw it, and Connie didn't even bat an eye.

Jean? He trusted Connie's better judgment.

The conversation taking place made you squirm in delight, your food stabbed more than usual, the potatoes mushed and pressed more than you should. The smile you're trying to hide as the giddiness almost showed as a curve on your lips. But your eyes... your eyes are all giving it away, so you tucked them lower, your gaze on the carrots, but your focus on their words.

Co-recruits were giving them disgusted looks like the one they give you a month ago. And you'll also rub salt in the wound... later. You gotta play the innocent bystander right now.

_"Freak."_

_"Disgusting." - Eren_

_"That's a bad hickey."_

_"What typa cooties did they get?"_ See? You're not the slut here.

Your jaws tightened, the victory playing in your condescending eyes. Shaking in satisfaction, you finish your portion, and went outside. As much as you want to hear more, you can't stay any longer or else you'll burst into fucking laughter.

And at the stables, you did.

Stomach hurting, eyes watering, you drown in the taste of victory. Of course you checked if someone's in here first before you had your spectacular outburst. The last thing that you are is stupid.

And the little bursts of air as you laugh are not done yet.

The spasm still hurting

You could barely stand up.

Now they just gotta play itchy patootie you'll watch on the sides, until it's time to shower and you're gonna play the nice hero by giving them an ointment when everyone is around. Everyone will notice it and boom, instant hero. Maybe Shadis will be there too and witness it. Put a good name for you for better referrals. You mean, why not? You've made this ointment and soap from the backyard bushes and since they're too busy being stupid about titans that'll eat them soon enough, they can't be bothered to look for medicine resting abundantly in their backyard! They can't take care of their recruits and soldiers 'wounded' from the battle? You can do that for them!

But not today! They were wrong to cross you this time.

You're not a goody good shoes, let's get that out now; you can be that concerned, self absorbed fucker who actively participates as if you're actually casted as a character in this reality, or...

You can be this type of person and ruin everything for them! Anyway, the more they call you a freak, the more you want to prove them how right they are!

It's tiring! Everyone says you're a genius when they want something from you, and a freak when they can't stomach difference or spontaneity!

A simple difference from the rest and everyone thinks you're a deformity! An anomaly!

And even here, you're a fucking outcast! _Still_ , different!

You wiped the tears that you can't distinguish whether from laughing or something else, as soon as you hear boot steps coming in. You wiped any trace of laughter on your face, as you pretend to tend to the horses.

"I didn't know someone would be here this early." That deep, velvety voice and you can't help but freeze at the memory; his battlecry still rang in your ears when he took his exit in the battle of Shiganshina... you wanted to look; what expression would he wear when you turn around? Would he be pleasant with that air of superiority he always carries with him?

And you did.

He was petting a horse as gallant as him, as graceful as his thin, calloused fingers.

And for a moment, you thought hard on the notion of changing a part of the story, for this man, to stay alive.

"Good morning sir," you greeted, satisfied that the strong, uncharacteristic emotions surging through you is controlled behind your now polite gaze. "I was thinking of petting the horses before the training to ease the nervousness." _So polite. So not you._

"I see, it's not advisable to train on an empty stomach. You should fill your body with sustenance before the day starts."

"Yes Sir!" You give him the best of your salute.

"Erwin," another familiar voice popped just behind him, and the manlet in his brown military coat, sporting that undercut and that trademark scowl pronounced in his throaty, deep voice. "we're going to be late." Levi said, _unbothered_ by your presence.

And why would they be bothered?

You rethought your actions that you premeditated all through out a month. You _wasted a month_? For what? A simple remark that bruised your _ego_? A month to take a poison ivy, ointment-making from stock knowledge? all those hours you stay awake making your simple concoction of coagulated medicine?

It doesn't make sense to you now.

You're the outsider— you shouldn't be taking your petty antics on people or characters you're going to leave after some time. It's petty, childish and sure means you're _insecure_.

Insecure that they have not recognized your genius yet.

Looking at Erwin, alive and whole, getting home is not the only thing that you want to do now.

Leave a legacy behind.

You may not be able to save everyone, but lives will be spared on your watch. And not one of them needs to know whatever you're trying to do. Sounds tough even for a genius like you.

And a memoir to remember your legacy, and legacy you'll have to finish until it's time to leave.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> I know, we’re three chapters already and there’s not that much of excitement yet. 
> 
> The story really starts slow, because when you start with the Maria breach, you can’t skip that 3 year training. And we know that Shadis is the King in the Training Corps, and the other Commander will have to appear after they graduate
> 
> That’s one of the problem in this story, so when I was drafting the whole concept. I was checking the timeline, but I got to pick only the landmarks so it’s not too wordy or too filler-ish. 
> 
> The excitement will start as soon as they graduate. You know, where the killing and the plot tweaking and our daddies will appear. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking so long. :)


	4. Lie so Low

The redness on their skin now forming blisters and possibly infections, and this is _entirely_ your fault. They probably have not remembered what they told you, and it kind of stings that you're the only person to hold on to the bitter remark they threw on you.

_Isn’t this what you want, bystander? Not be noticed?_

But you won't tell them it's you because Shadis is one nasty motherfucker you don't want to deal with. Here comes a bloated, red Jean, walking while scratching. Goodness F/N, you really did him good.

"Hey Jean," and his irritated gaze fell on you. Still scratching everywhere, you offered him and Connie that one time full service you've never given anyone before, and never intended to give anyone ever again.

"You should take a warm bath." You offered, oatmeal soap mixed in some of corticosteroids from the ointments you brought with you as you mix everything in lye. "I heard you guys can't do the training awhile back."

"Yeah," he said, startled. More like bewildered. He wasn't expecting you to know his name, nor to even speak to him at all. Probably he remembered what he told you long ago... at least in his memory it was long ago. You held on that pursed lip— hopefully it doesn't look apologetic, and offered him the soap.

He was alarmed. Of course he was. Soap is not a basic commodity in the military, especially in the outer walls. Probably only those from Sina can afford it. But no fret, you can make more for as long as there's lye.

"W-where did you get this?!" He whispered, accusation apparent in his tone. He was still scratching; blood and pus seeping in his gray collared shirt.

"I made it. I worked as an apprentice before I came here. Since I have some spare, you and Connie should share. Also," What you said is not totally a lie, right? you really were an apprentice... of pots and knives making, that is.

You fished that ointment you made from peppermint and eucalyptus leaves. "After taking a bath put this on the wound. Twice a day and always make sure the itch is dry. Never ever mix it with sweat and oil."

"You sound like my mom," he replied, in contrast to the words he uttered was the lightness in his tone. "Why are you doing this? We called you a freak sometime back."

Oh, so they remembered. So they remembered and that's enough to let go of that they said. Although the bullying haven't stopped yet, (Some unimportant, unnamed cadets are even asking you for a night! Over your dead pussy!) it felt quite relieving they knew what they did that triggered the whole thing. Maybe even apologize if you're really pushing your luck.

"You're loud in the mess hall; it's not a good alternative for watered down coffee."

An awkward silence, and a chuckle escaped from his lips simultaneous of the blush by the moonlight. He scratched the back of his head. That's just the poison ivy working right? Not some hormonal reaction from a boy undergoing puberty?

You tucked your hair behind your ears— a nervous habit for a socially awkward person like you. And as soon as you noticed he's interpreting it as _something else_ , you began to panic.

Okay, now what the fuck? You're older than him. Like _years_ man. Sure, you don't look like your age, but nope. Nope, not happening—

"Hey, um," he started, "do you want to apply, um the ointment in my back after I take a bath? In the mess hall?"

_Shit. You're a fucking retard F/N, you have not thought this through!_

You snorted. _You dared to fucking laugh when someone tries to invite you of something? Or will he take this as flirting too? Oh, shit he's averting his eyes! He thinks you're totally flirting what the fuck! How do you do this? Do you say just no? Or just walk away—_

"Um, I guess Connie c-can do that for you no problem? Sasha and the rest needs something from me soo..."

_Take a fucking hint man!_

"And make sure you share it to Connie— I mean not the itch- you know not like crotch itch it's not something like herpes or, you know s-sexually transmitted disease—" Someone stop me!

"Y-yeah, like that, I'll share my itch with _Connie." what the fuck are you saying! I'm literally telling you not to share the itch! Fuck, he lost his nuts over a simple shitty dialogue!_

"Yeah, great, see you around, Jean." _Oh God, help. This is a disaster of a fucking convo!_

"Good night, um..?"

"F/N."

"F/N." Taking your name to memory with that smile on his lips. "Yeah, good night, and uh.." He still have something to say, in which you really can't give two shits about it, but nevertheless, you let him continue.

"I'm sorry we said those things before. We know you're quite... _**weird**_ but it's not right to pick on you." 

Hearing that word you detest made a muscle in your insides churn. But you tried to chastise yourself on the thought that the man already apologized. Note the word: _tried_. A little late given most of the cadets are still up to the name calling. But it's just name calling, your psyche can withstand that much... 

"It's all in the past now, Jean." You can always dig this gem whenever necessary for... you know, inspiration to hate?

And you thought he liked Mikasa? He was mad blushing now. Did you say it too soft that he can take it as something else? No shit you don't want that. You could only guess when you're hormonal you tend to be indecisive. He was still smiling as he walked backwards, scratching his collar bones. You could only nod.

"Yeah, good night a-again, um, F/N."

You turned, wanting to get away from that stupid glitter of his random feels and your awkwardness and hopefully, his eyes are not staring at your ass.

* * *

4 months and a week and Jean is _still_ stealing glances at you for every fucking chance he could get.

And you know what they say about the 4 month limit.

Past it, it's not infatuation brought by puberty hormones anymore.

You pushed that cringe thought aside. You don’t do slimy feelings.

You don't want to be the subject of anyone's affection, especially not from a pubescent boy whose voice usually cracks when he shouts during the morning footwork. He held that ointment like a secret between the two of you; an illusion that something so passionate exists undetected between you and him. And you're not so much of an asshole to say bluntly that you're really not interested, and so you continued to be accommodating; total opposite of how you want things to be between you, or anyfucking else.

He takes your (and Mikasa's) word, like a religion fanatic.

You take the usual potatoes and beans today (whoever cooked that beans is a fucking retard, it's undercooked!) sat on a corner, scooting a little further to Sasha as it is where Connie and Jean usually sits. You contemplated sitting on Armin's area, but something whispered reminding you of a resolution you made long ago.

_Stay fucking hidden. Less interaction, less entanglement. Less sappy shit to cry when you leave._

It’s true, it’s no use getting attached;you shouldn’t be. You’re going to leave this place, so don’t carry that unnecessary baggage.

Thus you settled in a corner, Jean in your periphery having animated discussions with Sasha and Connie...

It's not that difficult to sit beside anyone and get ignored. But that biting feeling in your chest that you're merely an spectator as you will soon push and pull the strings in the shadows to save as many people as you can somehow hurts.

_Can't I just take some recognition that I will do something for them? Like a pat a in the back or something?_

But what is the difference? Haven't you been like this since birth? You're literally trying to favor your parents' expectations and follow their steps but still, your genius is not enough.

You looked at Eren, and remember his actions in the future. At some point he thought he was special too, that's why he justified so much deaths given how in his words that stuck to you: 'their deaths can't be helped.'

You realized you're the only person in the mess hall.

You chewed, as fast as your jaws could allow and hop on the training for the day.

* * *

Shadis was giving instructions already. And given that you're late, he just have to pick on you to lead the stretches before the exercise proper, and oh! That's not even the chorus of the song:

Today, you'll be practicing the art of 3DMG.

But since this calls urgent, you felt that familiar soon-to-gag reflex banging in your stomach as his spit spray on you like windex, only the nasty kind.

"Weird little shit." He spat, seriously, it's kind of getting old now. The potato girl on Sasha's end gives the more spark. "Since you have your own time you follow, why not show them how you do it, Cadet? You've got 15 minutes."

The bile and the chewed pieces of potatoes are threatening to splurge. Fuck this, what are you gonna do? Jumping jacks? You're gonna barf the undercooked beans and everyone will call you names again. You're used to following instructions now that you can't fucking summon the braincells you're so proud of?

_F/N, think goddamnit!_

_Oho._

Since he wants you to lead the stretches, you're gonna give them the stretch of their lives. Weird as it is.

Yoga has been part of you to calm the nerves. No one have seen you doing it because it's something you practice in private, on a Sunday or any day-off for that matter. It sure works to shoo the thought that you might not be able to go home anymore, or you'll get killed in action, or you don't have a future! Or Jean's incessant, unsolicited love stare hunting your nights— not the good kind. It has been a routine for years since pubescence and has persisted until now.

And you're gonna show them how weird you could be. Minus the malice of course.

That was a really bad inside joke.

You walked in front, eyes are staring at you, daring you to start. Some gigglish, some hanging to every muscle that twitches on you. Some, with the condescending look on their eyes; some apathetic.You look at Jean and what registered was concern in his features.

And then you started to lift your arms, and reach your toes.

_Inhale. Exhale._

Back up again and reach in for the toes. You heard the giggles.

_Inhale. Assholes. Exhale._

Then you crawl the dusty, red soil without bending the knees... and you stay there with your hands on your toes.

_Their opinions shouldn’t matter._

You jumped your feet backwards, and everyone, whose face once registered mockery, now has panic that they can't follow the unpredictability of the flow.

_Slow. Sensual. Silent. Spiritual. That’s right bitches._

You did a push up, only that you stayed low, and glided your whole body to a cobra position.

_Inhale. Exhale._

Downward fucking dog. They’re beginning to get the hang of it.

You lifted a leg. Shadis was throwing you a shady look.

You twisted your body to a wild thing.Some stumbled, some muffled their moans.

_Orgasmic isn’t it?_

You bent your spine. You hear the bones cracking.

The moans and the exhales.

The exhaustion.

The sweat.

_Inhale. Exhale._

Hands in prayer.

_Namaste._

And you thought you're having hallucinations, but the glow on their face apparent.

Tensions were released.

Pent up energy gone by the wind.

But, man, Shadis was giving you a confused, ‘about-to-take-a-shit’look. The look on their faces, that wrinkle between their eyebrows gone. They look sleepy, relaxed.

So... they liked it?

Historia— well, Christa for now, was giving you a smile, seemingly proud that no matter how new this experience was for everyone, it seemed to work pretty well with them. But that’s not really an assurance, she’s still the goody-goody. Nice, but biased. Unless someone like Annie or Mikasa would tell you...

Of course, Jean’s giving you that smile like he’s so proud. And of course you can’t miss that blush, but you chose not to react to it.

Even Eren and Mikasa were relaxed. That’s reassuring.

Annie? She’s not really someone to paint it to her face unless she tells you.

Everyone seems to like it, except Shadis.

What did you do to this guy anyway that he goes red on your name to that list?

* * *

At the end of the day, no one really told you how good it felt about the stretching, until Reiner suggested you lead the cool down.

And so you did the exact same flow awhile back, not because you don’t want them to struggle— you do, you’re a sadist at some degree— but because you’re too tired to show them another flow. And you don’t want to remind yourself of your fuck ups during the 3DMG practice. Reiner had to look out for you the entire time, much to Jean’s annoyance. You were grateful, the ‘big bro’ look out for you while he’s still on the disguise. You reminded yourself he won’t be an asshole today, at least not until the Battle of Trost.

Shadis was not present, but you see his foot in the air by the window like he’s trying that three-legged dog you did in the morning.

* * *

You were pulled by girls in the 6 bed bunks you shared, and one of them was that twin ponytailed bitch you laughed at you in the introduction day. Doesn’t matter now, you remind yourself.

“Hey, what was that you did?”

“Where did you learn that?”

Annie was listening in the corner.

“Is that something you do in your hometown? It’s quite cool.”

_Think of a story,fast!_

“Um, yes, it’s passed down to us...” you said rather sheepishly. You answered the line of questions piling up the more you fabricate the truth.“I learned it in my hometown, and it’s not very popular...”

Yes, it’s been passed around in the countless YouTube videos was what you wanted to say, but held it in.

“Sir Shadis should make you lead the warm up and cool down if you’d like. It felt good on the muscles, right Ymir?” Of course Ymir’ll say yes.

“But where exactly did you learn that technique, F/N?” Annie was intent at making you not swipe the question no.

“I lived at the outskirts of Wall Maria before. It was considered a kind of self-massage.”

“I thought you were an entertainer.” Annie was chinning the guitar. _Damn it blondie._

“For the extra coins.” You said, grinning. “There’s 24 hours in a day and 7 days in a week you know.”

Only then did they dropped the questions and ask you to play the guitar again, instead.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super late! I’m sorry! 
> 
> So we’re still on the part where reader is torn between her decision of not taking up the field by storm and the temptation of showing her brilliance. I don’t know if she noticed it yet, but the more she shows her ‘weird’ self, the more her batch mates are drawn to her. 
> 
> But that’s her struggle; she doesn’t want to show her real self because if she did, she’ll get attached and it will be difficult to leave! 
> 
> And as much as I’d like to write and update earlier, I had to read so much precedents for that exam I’ve been preparing. (And then the exam got cancelled! ) Moreover, I had to help my fiancé draft that affidavit-complaint for a client of his. 
> 
> So sorry! 
> 
> I’ll post the next chapter shortly to make up the lost time. See ya! 


	5. Sign Off

_You will always remember..._

Shadis' 'urgent' call that he had a private order between him and Cadet L/N. And by that order, he meant asking Erwin and his short tail Levi to ask for you in the office once upon a time, when they were visiting on official business. Probably talk about the top 10 and how many cadets were promising and ballsy enough to sign their life away to the Survey Corps. But you don't care. You are going to sign your shit away, and it's NOT the last landmark you'll do in your entire life.

His muscles were pulled doing that one among all yoga sequences you introduced in the training, prior to the 3DMG. He was asking for you because, apparently, his flexibility made him a tangled pretzel...

Although out your training days under him, Shadis accepted your weirdness as an unusual step for improvement of the training regimen. He noted that the torque and reflexes of the cadets improved after doing the 'weird contortions'.

And guess what?

He incorporated it for the succeeding batches regimen, and recommended it to Erwin too.

You couldn't be happier to be summoned and draft 4 flows for them.

_You will always remember..._

That Annie and Eren's fighting earned you an injury, because Reiner had to be your next sparring partner. You tried to copy Annie's moves by memorizing, and you won against Reiner, although you dislocated your shoulder.

And found out that Reiner just had to let you win. Damn it.

3 years in and finally, you get to smoothly monkey around the 3DMG without colliding on a tree, Petra style. Two broken fingers toughened you up to use your feet in preventing collision. You even incorporated some of your style now in munching the makeshift napes of the simulator. A broken rib was what you earned when you plead Mikasa to teach you some moves. She taught you well, alright, except that part where she does chain attacks on simulators. It took you a year to built enough strength and agility to do chain attacks, and 2 months to incorporate your own style. Of course, you can't built an Ackermann strength but it's enough to kill titans and protect yourself... hopefully. You bribed her with lectures before as you weren't that good in written yet.

3 years in and finally, you know how to write and read their language. You speak the same, but the alphabets are not. Before, you have to memorize whatever you hear and write them in your notes by memory. You never showed your notes to anyone, but you were generous in giving lectures and receiving some from Armin too.

3 years in and initially, it was only the girls that warmed up to you. The men too, somehow did not mind you as weird any longer. Well, because probably you were good enough at hiding it.

Three years in, and you graduate 13th. What a lucky number. But the rank didn't matter. You have no qualms being invisible and joining the Survey Corps. Fuck Garrison.

Tonight, everyone was allowed some leniency; you were allowed to put something in your face, like colorette. Before it was just the hair that you're allowed to do however you want, but since tonight is a celebration, they give you a little more discretion.

Not that you did something in your face.

And the main players of Survey Corps were here.

_Hange Zöe was here._

She's the character you admire the most; her different view on titans made you question about them. And sure enough she was right, they were just innocent victims of Marley.

And then there's Pyxis, Shadis, Erwin and Levi, Miche, Oluo, Petra, Gunther, Eld...

You were standing in the wall of the far end corner, appreciating the lighter atmosphere, sipping watered down coffee instead of that rare chance of alcohol. The lights from the torches licking the whole place and you were wondering if one day you should give them fluorescent or bulb as a source of light. That's peanuts if you get access to that cave and finish your electricity generator.

You brushed that thought aside, as the consequence of being found out may lead to torture.

"Hey, you should watch nearer, F/N!" Christa was pulling you closer to center. She attracts too much attention that a wave of her voice sends shivers to Reiner and Ymir, even Eren, much to Mikasa's dismay.

"I'm fine in this corner." You said sheepishly.

"Don't be silly, of course you should enjoy more!" The higher ups are looking at the commotion now. Are you... hallucinating, or is Erwin looking at you with a smirk on his face?

"Hey, F/N, you should play some songs! Your songs are out of this world! No one heard them before!" Sasha is a loud piece of megaphone.

"R-really, um," you stuttered, taking a glance on Shadis and Erwin is still looking at you. To make it worse, Jean has your guitar, Reiner has that smirk on his face and Berthold, no, he was sweating like a sinner in church.

Levi was boring a hole on the whole act.

"You should play." Jean again has that smile on his face. You observed the whole room as you take the guitar. They were urging you by silent smiles of anticipation, some with cheering 'woohoo!' Okay this has got to stop. The higher ups are looking at you, and getting noticed is not exactly a part of the plan.

As much as you want to show them your brilliance, you don't want them to give you a name to remember. Because you remember them, and what happened to them.

They don't need to know you. It's enough that you're the only person to carry the loss of saying goodbye so soon.

And as much as you don't want to feel anything for them, you spent years with them.

And it's starting to spill.

"This is um," you looked at their expectant faces. The breathe deeply and subtly to calm the nerves. You strummed the guitar checking for offkeys, and as much as you're tempted to go on a Taylor Swift rampage, you settled on the song written by Coldplay, and sung by Embrace.

"This is um— oh well fuck, let's get this over with." You didn't realize that you told them your exact thoughts until everyone cracked a laugh, followed by the cheering.

Levi was watching.

His whole squad was watching.

Erwin was watching.

Hange was preoccupied with something.

Moblit was nagging.

Pyxis was tipsy, but watching.

And you pick the first notes.

_"Honey, It's been a long time coming... And I can't stop now..."_

And so, you started, bashfully at first, when you saw everyone is staring at you like: 'what is this bitch singing?' But the minute passes and their stares turned to feelings that you are not unfamiliar with:

Sadness and in the midst of it all, hopefully, a _relieving_ _conclusion_.

You remembered the desperation to survive in this world doesn't come cheap, lesser are the chances when you choose to be a soldier.

You looked at Marco and the panel of his untimely demise reflected in the angry pickings of your guitar. If you were only a reader of the books or an audience of the television, it wouldn't matter. You could forget about it soon and remember it from time to time, and not be affected by it. But you got to know more of him and how nice of a person he is.

And the anger from injustice and the urgency to save him soon won't run this fast in your veins if you hadn't.

You looked at Squad Levi and soon enough that sheer second that they might've been saved by their lapses of decision flashed through your taps on the guitar's body.

Every strum was a strike against every member, and every picking was that flimsy possibility you can do something about it.

And you will bet by the end of this song, with every ounce you have, that you will do something for them, if you can't keep them alive.

_"Cause I can't help crying and I won't look down."_

"What the hell, we're not yet dying but it was nice!"

"Sing something lively, for the wall's sake!"

"Lively music goes well with alcohol, goddamnit!"

"More!" Shouted Armin and Jean, and soon enough, the tension and sadness was replaced with easy happy ambiance when you strummed a random note and blasted them with your adorkable Taylor Swift classics.

The night ended with on a drunk, lighter note.

* * *

You thought your fingertips' callouses were enough to shield your fingers from the pain, but damn dude, you just have to dip them over cold water.

The higher ups and their respective squads _probably_ went back already, and most of the Privates were asleep or still rampaging drunk in the mess hall. It was nice to allow the now Privates the leniency of one night. And you see some rumored couples sneaking to corners...

You and your lonely guitar was enough to accompany you through the night behind the stables.

_"Can you feel the love tonight? I feel the evening breeze..." Damn lovers..._

These songs were less than enough to remind you of the life you left back before all of these. But you hold on to them sacredly near, suffocating you even.

_What if you just make a life here?_

You shake that thought. You have a life you're creating back home, and this? This is a mere part of life in the books you read that you chose to visit. It just turned out as a reality for you. Reality now, but temporary.

Just a part, nothing more, nothing less. It will pass.

"Hey." You know that voice and you played louder like you didn't hear Jean.

"Hey, F/N, don't ignore me." He sat beside you, and you picked the strings even harder.

**Snap.**

"Fuck!" You said, your finger bleeding, your cheek the same.

"That's what you get for ignoring me!" Jean said, hearing his _tsk_ , taking your hand as he sucked that bloody finger.

Your instincts told you to retract the finger. It's dirty, coppery smelling, sweaty.

"Jean don't—"

He pulled your face closer, and he dared to plant a peck on your bleeding cheek.

Nothing too intense, just a peck, that's all.

But enough to heat your cheeks.

"If you listened and not ignore me, you wouldn't have to buy another string and cut your finger."

The world stopped for a second, and the milliseconds that you have to recall the times you were kissed.

Fuck it, there's none.

Meaning, Jean was the first.

Cold water seems to pour you over the head; your shoulders tensed, you suddenly can't breathe. The absence of the guitar sounds was what you _don't_ need as you think you need to fill in the silence right now. And you're scared that if you speak, he will do more then sucking your finger or kissingyour cheek.

Isn't that how the drama goes now? Getting assault kisses in the middle of a sentence?

"Jean?" You asked, not looking at him. You stared straight ahead, scared shitless that he might just do what dramas are into as you remembered.

"What?"

"If I look at you, what reaction are you wearing?"

"Why would you even ask that? Of course just the normal."

"I'm asking because it will tell me whether to leave without looking at you, for my safety, or to look at you and here in now, break your heart."

He didn't respond. You had enough of this charade; you know the blush you're sporting is nothing but surprise. The naïveté just coming to bite your ass and now you learn. You can't possibly give the boy a chance. How old is he, 15? You're more than a decade older and he can't, not by your moral standards, have a thing between the two of you.

"Hey, F/N—"

"Jean," You were still not looking at him. "You like Mikasa right?"

"What?"

"You like Mikasa. You probably fell in love with her, without seeing her first." It's true. He sketched her in an OVA without knowing of her existence.

"No, I—" He is sometimes easy to read.

"I know how you look at her."

"If this is about Mikasa—"

"It's not about Mikasa, it's just you making me a doormat." You faced him, deciding it's already safe to look at him. "I'm not jealous nor am I hurt that you like the girl; she's amazing and a total badass, and you know you find her too."

He said nothing else, and left. But before he could get going, his salute to Erwin the the whole Levi squad rung in your ears.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading the latest official or unofficial release of the manga, you know why I have to put somethings here and there.
> 
> You will always remember.  
> Dedicate you heart! 
> 
> Songs mentioned: 
> 
> Gravity performed by Embrace, written by Coldplay
> 
> Can You Feel the Love Tonight. Boyce Avenue rendition, Originally performed by Elton John, from the movie The Lion King


	6. Under Scrutiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot tweaking starts at the battle of trost

You didn't sleep.

In fact, you couldn't sleep because after the disbanding ceremony will immediately be the Battle of Trost.

For 2 weeks, you had to rummage through the shed and look for malfunctioning 3DMGs, an extra green cloth, and the something to handprint the garrison logo.

That was the most difficult thing to do because you can't manually print anything on the textile without a screen so you opt going to the market and buy the colors from the market (you lost a coin for 3 colors! So expensive!) and paint it yourself.

Not exactly identical because yours was more detailed. It was a portrait of roses rather than a logo, but it was enough to fool anyone.

You took the wrecked 3DMGs and yours on secret and modified them differently.

You fixed the seemingly unusable 3DMG. And as much as you shouldn't admit this, fixing it bored you so you also customized them. Only, Marco's new 3DMG is not detachable while yours will be. In short, you made 2 gears. Your draft on one morning newspaper about to be discarded, you followed your sketches.

1\. You replaced the unusable parts from other 3DMGs byusable parts of other trashed gears;

2\. You put torque engine on it, so the acceleration will be faster, far more aggressive hooks and throws;

3\. You joined and twisted the cables to form thicker ones, scared it might burn because of friction;

4\. You installed vertical back support because you know it will be faster now that you might break your back with it pulls you too fast.

5\. You oiled the cables for smoother retraction and fire-ups;

6\. You encased it with larger canisters.

7\. Test runs on day-off.

It doesn't look bomb but it will keep you alive.

The gas tube did not change really, although it might burn the gas faster, Marco's and Thomas’ escape plan will be your first priority. You knew how much Marco mean to Jean, and although you 'broke' his heart, it shouldn't be a reason to be apathetic about a common friend.

Friend? You’re getting soft.

You pushed the thought aside and prepared your tinker, as hours tick and you know someone's gonna score goal on Trost District.

* * *

Being invisible has its perks.

You know that now because no one was looking for you— save for Jean who keeps on looking around looking for your height that he can't find unless he stands on a podium.

You've been deployed; Trost District had been breached.

* * *

Rooftop.

Armin was about to get swallowed whole, without the struggle;

Eren is one leg short and bleeding in the rooftop;

Twintail bitch about to get eaten while settling a bet on a staring contest; and

Thomas on the verge of getting chewed up like salad.

_This is bad_. You gagged. The smell of coppery scent of blood, untimely bowels from wrangled intestines and smoke filled in your nose.

"Marco, help Thomas. I'll help the chic."

"But Eren—"

"Eren doesn't matter now, he's fine!"

"He's bleeding!"

"And Thomas is about as good as dead!" You said, prompting him to choose, and chose Thomas, much to your relief.

_Now, what to do? Oh Yeah._

You shook the gas tubes, lighter. There's not much gas left, even when you run and replace it in the shack. You looked around, looking for Reiner and the two, and you had to look for dead people you can rob off their gas later on.

One.

Two.

Four.

Eight.

Eight people to rob; some whole, some half, some bleeding to death.

You went in for the nape, the last of your gas emptied as you cut the flesh, and saved the twin tail bitch. You assisted her, and she did not flinch or show any sign of resistance that it hurt. You tried to lift her up, but she's not responding to a thing.

Then it hit you: she broke her spine by the impact of the slam of the concrete.

You closed her eyelids, and let her rest by the rooftop.

"Thank you for your hard work." You said, as you disassembled her gas tubes and install in on your own.

* * *

Marco at least saved Thomas, and the first thing he did was too look for the twin tail chic. You can't tell him yet, nope, it has to wait. You're in the middle of things that doesn't make sense and ever changing by the minute.

_Next step would be to look for a cart of some sort. But where?_

"We need to help Eren!" Marco said, distracting Thomas' crying bouts of searching.

"Marco, Thomas we have to get all the gas tubes we can use. _Every last one._ "

"But we should help—"

"He's fine! Armin's gonna live." Thomas screaming about the corpse of his girl, and you just have to yank him by the collar to pin him down. "We're on war! Mourn later!"

"That's my—"

"She's dead, broke her spine! Get on with the gas tube before we're next!" All the shouting made your throat itchy, and Thomas just have to pin you in the roof and punch you jaw by jaw. Marco restrained him, your jaw now a little misaligned and your bleeding nose did not help to alleviate the situation.

“Thomas, now’s not the time to be emotional.” Marco just had to say it more convincingly. And so, a few minutes, and Thomas was functional once again.

Still, you chose to proceed with the plan.

"Blew the steam yet? Now get the gas tubes. They're gonna be fine."

Marco seemed to notice something— of course he had. This guys’ intuitive. You were speaking like you know what's going to happen next, but somehow,that did not alarm you at all. He's going to forget this. The trauma will make him, or at least you hope. You will avert his questions or mislead him he remembers it wrong. But that's for another plan.

The bearded titan now swallowed Eren, and after afew minutes, he's going to be a titan.

The clock is ticking.

You chose to tail Marco, robbing the dead of their gas while you heave as much as you can carry near the rickshaw.

_Time to think, F/N. Eren is going to be a titan soon, how do you give these in the roof top?_

You know this won’t suffice to supply everyone and continue to mission, but enough to get to HQ and slice titan to get an access. Marco wandered off too far, but he would be back to bring in gas tubes, there’s no doubt about that... right? _Shit_.

You took off a nearby makeshift parasol of a stall, yanked the cloth off, and tied it securely between the ends of the rickshaw’s handle, putting on enough weight to catapult the gas upward, signaling Marco to tell Mikasa who just arrived, to catch them all.

And so you dived in at the other end of the carriage, your weight and the torque of the 3DMG barely enough to spring the gas upwards.

And again.

And again.

Gas almost gone, your leg bone cracked; your ankle dislocated, and again.

You looked up, and at least at ease at the reassurance that they caught every last gas.

_Not quite done motherfucker, so you can't rest, so you don't die._

* * *

The bearded titan popped like corn with Eren’s hand sticking just behind him.

You know what will happen next, and you can’t find Marco.

_Fuck my leg, fuck my ankle._

The plan A was to lookout for Marco not to be around the warriors. Plan B was to disguise as a garrison member and fly away with him using your improved gear. Since Reiner, Annie and Bert will be chasing after you, you'll have to outrun them and either hide in the shack, or run within a more populous location, meaning in the HQ where they can't do anything by the surveillance of everyone, depending on how the 3 would play it.

Fuck plan A. Marco is being stripped off of his gear.

A titan about to bite his shoulders, you just have to first slice the nape. _That's right bitches! Second kill!_

_You hear that? That's the music of badassery!_

The warriors didn't seem to notice at first, as they were busy contemplating why Marco is being eaten. Taking advantage of their deer in headlight moment, you sliced the fingers of that already killed titan, and manhandled the frightened boy and you fucking flew superman away from the titan shifters.

Annie then Berth was the first ones to notice.

Maybe you put too much torque on your gear more than your vertical back support can handle. Your hips hurt now.

Minutes passed, and Reiner, Bert and Annie had not found that garrison cloak wearer you already removed. This shack you chose was located in the middle of the tallest infrastructures, easy to miss. You settled on a corner where you hid his modified gear; Marco still whimpering about either the discovery of their identities or that he was almost chewed in half.

You shushed him, covering his mouth with your hand, a wet towelette in between.

"Marco, calm down, you're okay." You soothed, your next steps should come obvious by now. You forced him to stand, continuing with the coos and the soothing voice of command to wear the new gear.

"That's a lot more faster than usual, and the gas run out faster so conserve it, okay?" Maybe you'll have to work on the gas regulator soon, you jotted that in your head.

"R-Reiner... Bert were..." he was still out of his mind. He was about to cry again... _One way to this and another way to do that..._

SLAP!

"Fuck's sake Marco, get your shit together." You growled as you gripped him by the collar, and made him look you in the eyes. You're shorter, and instead of pushing him upwards, you pulled him nearer that spit sprayed in his face.

"Yeah, they are titan shifters, you're alive now try to keep it that way."

"But how did you know—" the panic in his eyes more intense now. He was obviously apprehensive that you might be a titan shifter as well.

"I just fucking save you boy. And it's not the time. Try to be alive. Let's go meet Jean and the rest."

"But—"

You just can't help but land one on his stomach.

"I said, try to be alive, not look like a degenerate retard, weak dick." 

You surveyed outside, and Marco just had to yank you and pin you to the fucking wall, and accuse you again about being with the warriors. "L-let's talk for a while... please... how did you..?"

“Who are you?” His question made you tensed.

"LISTEN. TO. ME." You said as firmly as you can, anxiety getting thicker by the passing second that you stay unprotected against Reiner and the two. You waited for his focus to actually be on your eyes. "I'm not one of them. You can trust me, Marco."

Only then did it reached him, and you lead the way where the rest would be.

* * *

You know what happened next: Eren seals off the hole, and you couldn’t care. You were more cautious of what the three might do now that the cat’s out.

Marco was with you in the makeshift ward, insisting that he watches you heal, but really he could go; you’re scared that he might be poisoned or killed by the three if you ever let him out of your sight. You even insisted on staying in the most populous of wards, just to make sure that if they were to make a commotion, they couldn’t do it in easily.

“F/N.” He started, and you know he has a lot of questions now. Your brain started to plan diversions and layers of systematic, complex lie but simple in delivery.

“I know, you have questions.”

“Did you know Reiner’s secret?”

“No, I overheard them too. That’s why I got to pull you off.”

“But that, that doesn’t make sense,” he started, licking his lips, and looked at the modified gears you wrapped with your jacket as to avoid scrutiny. “You modified our gears even though mine is perfectly working. You acted like you know where to go and hide when you ran away. You faked a garrison cloak—“

“You didn’t worry about Eren or Armin as if you know they’ll not get eaten...”

He breathe deeply, while you gasped for air. _The keen piece of shit..._

“You knew that was going to happen, isn’t it?”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... Marco and Thomas are alive. But you have few cracked bones...
> 
> Let’s see if you can handle a few more rough ups from the Ackermann and Erwin themselves... on the next chapter, probably?


	7. The Outsider

_"Did you know Reiner's secret?"_

_"No, I overheard them too. That's why I got to pull you off."_

_"But that, that doesn't make sense," he started, licking his lips, and looked at the modified gears you wrapped with your jacket as to avoid scrutiny. "You modified our gears even though mine is perfectly working. You acted like you know where to go and hide when you ran away. You faked a garrison cloak—"_

_"You didn't worry about Eren or Armin as if you know they'll not get eaten..."_

_He breathe deeply, while you gasped for air._

_"You knew that was going to happen, isn't it?"_

* * *

You could've lost your shit right there...

"Marco, listen to how you sound right now."

"Unless you're like them—"

"If I am a titan in disguise, do you think I'll save you?"

...if only that you didn't think of a way to convince him at the back of your head.

"Then what are you? You acted as if you knew everything— as if... as if Armin will get saved, o-or that E-Eren will be—"

"I didn't know Eren can shift, I didn't know if Armin could save himself, but those two are more than capable." Your eyes focused, your fingers grabbed his shoulder almost leaving a dent.

"Eren didn't graduate on the top list if he couldn't handle a single titan— he survived Shiganshina massacre. Armin? Armin is smart. You know that."

He was not having it, and it's so patent in his eyes.

"Armin can plan ahead remember? Remember we saved Christa from bandits in the mountains? He planned, we executed. He's smart, and he values his life. He wouldn't die from a single titan."

"But he froze—"

"So what? He got through it. He's not someone who loses their shit because he's aware that losing it and wimping on war will get you nothing but killed, shamefully."

The glimmer on his eyes back, but what infested it was remorse. You had to rub salt in the wound.

"So get over it. And don't ever think of saying their identity to anyone."

"We should tell—"

"And then what?" You spat, angry, exhausted, pained and hungry. "Let me tell you what's gonna happen to you." You were hissing now. "Telling the higher ups will get you arrested, then tortured for information and eventually get executed even though you did what _you think_ is right."

"But F/N, this is something that will help the humanity's victory over the titans! If they know, they could prevent further unnecessary killings!"

_Why can't some people just think?_

"That's what you think? Then go and die, Marco, I only did what I think is right—is saving you. If you think your life is a small price to pay, then by all means be my guest."

He didn't say anything, and you decided to continue your litany of convincing the freckled wimp.

"But when you're dead, you can never pin this on me."

He was still trying to process what you're saying. And you have to give him the final blow to seal his doubts and keep them at bay.

"Because your too dead to do something so _alive_ like revenge."

You bent and took your gear, disassembled it to default and gave it to him.

"This is your gear now. Don't tell anyone. Do you copy?"

When did you become altruistic? You can't remember. Before, you wouldn't hesitate to cut throat competition at your world; at one point you did plagiarize some documents, bluff your professors to pass, bribe the guard to let you through the unauthorized section of your national library, or even the littlest of petty stuff you do to normal people... like not giving a pregnant woman a spot on the sub.

And years in and you're willing to risk being found out, subject to torture for a 15 year old boy who might or might not have had his dick wet by his dreams. What is this, maternal instinct? Fuck that, no, that's not it. The reason so crystal to you but you again, tried to find other justification why you're doing this.

Thank god you found one.

You're willing to bet on it because it will take you to Survey Corps, and research with Hange, lead them faster to Marley and It'll be painful, but fast enough to have access on everything they know.

Levi? Psh, not a threat, he's a dog for Erwin's orders.

"Marco, don't tell anyone. Do you understand?"

He nodded, and as much as you tried to convince the gesture is sincere, you can't help but doubt he won't do something so _very_ stupid.

* * *

The time you spent on the ward made you almost forget the next events that will take place in just a matter of days. Given your physical state- you were diagnosed with a factured leg, twisted ankle and a rib that miraculously did not puncture your lung- you had no means to go and put Marco's gear in default.

Sonny and Bean will get killed.

Marco visited days prior, He said he had not seen the 3 so far because he took your advice to always be with a group of people or be with someone at all time. It worked for him good, and somehow it eased your nerves even if you disrespectfully changed the plot of the story everyone knew. In your defense, they didn't get to experience everything firsthand, and if they did, they probably would be concerned being with the character they simp or something. Forget about the munching other characters, just keep yourself alive so they can bone the corporal manlet or Miche or Erwin or something.

You? The plot's insane, but it keeps your veins from pumping. And besides, you can't deny this, but there's a part if you that is enjoying the thrill, besides the ultimate desire to go home.

Anyway...

"Hey." Jean, for the first time in days after that sappy-shit-however-you-call-it, visited you, and Thomas, Sasha, and Connie, and Christa, and Ymir.

It brought a smile on your face.

"How you doin'?"

"Alive." Quite corny, but whatever keeps them chuckling.

"Heard you saved Marco from a titan. He was like a brother. Thank you."

"No biggie." You said, receiving that get well card from Christa. You know how expensive coloring materials are (you're still mad at the 3 for a gold 'bargain' whenever you remember!) and you're grateful for receiving something seemingly insignificant in your world, but costs an arm and a leg in theirs.

"Thank you, everyone." And you noticed everyone was at awe.

"Something on my face?" Okay, what?

"No..." Christa said, trailing her words like she saw something amazing.

"F/N, you..." It's Sasha's turn now. "You look better when you smile!" She said so politely.

"You always have this angry look or you're just staring at a space."- Connie

"You really should smile!" -Christa.

"Told you she's cute." Urgh, Jean.

"Then stay alive, all of you guys, so I won't have to frown so much." You said, too motherly that you would want them to know. Then their faces soured...

"Am I missing something here..?" The smile in your face faded when you noticed someone was missing.

_Marco._

Jean bowed his head, seemingly out of respect that you did something to prolong what Marco had to spare in his last days. In the cost of your broken bones, you gave him a few more days to live.

"Thank you for saving his life once."

His gratitude was humbling, but that's not the point—what happened to Marco? He was supposed to be killed in Trost and you prevented that already! What—

"F/N, he was found where the captured titans were killed."

Bullshit. You felt the ice cold water of reality pour on the top of your head; the pain in your ribs didn't matter when you inhaled deeply. You can't form the words, your jaw loosened and suspended.Your eyes started to water...

Someone fed him to the titans, and you know who.

You didn't decide right away, but options flourished like fast mold in your head that it made you lightheaded. You have to control the anger before you come up to a decision and a plan. You can't jump in the gun and be shot in the head.

_Stay calm._

_Think._

"What happened to him?" You asked. You needed to know if he changed his decision because the nagging feeling of his insincerity was back and churned your insides.

"He was seen loitering around the makeshift camp for days before... that..." Connie said, sour in his tone.

_The little fucker. I told him not to tell anyone!_

Somehow, you already pieced out what happened to him; he was probably looking for someone like Hange or Erwin in the site to tell about the titan shifters, but then the warriors just have to be there too, and they took the chance, they fed him to a titan, before killing the titans too.

He was intuitive, but not strategic.

The panel of his gruesome death flashes in your memory; the smell of death in Trost now fresh again...

"We have to take your gear, that's why we came here, F/N. The titans Squad leader Hange captured were killed, so they opt to inspect the Privates." Said Jean, your gear still wrapped with your bloody uniform.

"Take it, and one last thing." You asked before they leave. "Steal me some morphine or any pain killer in the infirmary for me. Please."

They left without complying to probably, your last request.

* * *

You don't know how many days have you been strapped on this chair; your spine hurting, your ass numb.

You don't even know how many nails you have left.

_I told them to give me morphine..._

The military police just had to have a go at you. At first, it was a swing to the face, then they almost got your pinkie too until you threatened them of their affairs to their co-workers and few barkeepers. You know corruption was like a dime a dozen for them— that's not a threat. It was hit and miss, until you nailed them in the head:

An unnamed Military Police officer having an affair with his co-workers' wife.

And since you're not talking, they thought of having your ear after a cum or two but you threatened them to bite your tongue and say bye bye.

You're almost crossing the river Styx until Hange showed like a hero that she is.

"We're having custody over Private F/N L/N." Was what she said, and you could only assume it was a warrant of arrest signed by Zackley.

And so here you are.

"What am I being hold in custody for?" You asked, trembling at the blood and pus over your non-existent peeled fingers.

"Treason by Non-Disclosure of Sensitive Information Paramount to Public Safety." 

"Because of my gear?"

"Not just your gear, F/N," she showed you your cellphone long dead and gone; a part of the world you lived before coming to theirs. "No one has ever seen these things before." She was shaking.

This is what you have been expecting.

A smile on your lips.

A glint in your eyes.

"I'll talk, but under one condition."

"What is it?"

"You'll have to help get out here."

* * *

The Military Police doesn't have a clue of the things Hange and the Survey Corps found in your barracks; if they do, they could have had you guillotined or hanged there and then. But they chose to keep it on the low instead.

Good choice.

Erwin, Levi, Hange and Miche was in the room; Miche already went and sniffed you and it kind of made you self conscious because you've remained unbathed for days.

_And then the smirk right after he sniffs someone... urgh, so embarrassing!_

"Miche does that, don't worry about it too much." Hange said, tending to your blue and bloodied temple.

"I know, he does that."

"How would you know?!" She said, ecstatic. Her breath smells like a year old cheese under the sunlight, her hair greasy and her face... well, she has feline eyes. But you're really not one to talk. You know you smell like death; the most recent 'shower' you had was the Disbanding ceremony where Jean kiss—

"He looks like a sniffer." You said flatly.

"But tell me, we found things you hid under your bed's floorboards," she carelessly let gravity do the trick in emptying your trusty hiker's bag and you could never be more mortified.

Erwin was striding towards you now, his eyes curious at the contents of your bag. Levi? You know he's not really the type to let anyone see that he's curious or anything because he feels like it'll make him ignorant or less than his height. But you met his gaze as he observed you.

You at least managed to save your laptop from the fall.

But the expensive birthday present you had to save for 4 months? That portable driller and screwdriver set, soldering iron, and lead cord, cheap electrical testers...

Your towels...

Modern clothings...

Your panties...

Your brassiere... that Erwin had to fucking pick up and observe!

"Hange, stop stop stop stop **STOP!** " You said, your muscles angry at you at the sudden movement. Vertigo swirled your vision that Miche had to hold you steady.

_By the walls, Erwin stop sniffing my fucking bra!_

But he did not hear your thoughts; a smile lingered and gone by mere seconds. _Of course it smells nice, thank you very much!_

“What? We can’t take them out?” Hange said, excitement in her features and panic in her voice. You looked at your trusty tools and personal effects; defeat painting your face.

“Hange—“ you stole a glance in your fingers now devoid of nails. They won’t grow back, and at least you still can play guitar with complete set of fingers.

“When is my trial?”

“No real trial actually. A mock trial in exchange to that modified gear you made. How did you do that anyway?”

“What do you mean mock— you saying I’m acquitted already?”

“Yes, for formalities’ sake but you have Erwin to thank you. He leveraged your gear to study in exchange for your acquittal.”

_The bra sniffer did?_

You looked at him, his eyes playing wild, his hands still in your brassiere. Although Miche was helping himself of one of your panties— you fuck’s sake, drop it already! — you can’t help but feel indebted to the Commander. You looked at him with respect, but you didn’t say anything else.

He lets go of your brassiere, and he offers you his hand. “F/N, will you help us bring humanity to victory over the titans?”

_Oh you sweet, sweet talker._

“Commander Erwin, as much I want to help, you have to give me your word.”

“What is it?” His voice still the same deep, velvety one.

“The assistance and protection I need, you have to give me your word.”

“Oi, no-nail woman,” The manlet said, forcing you to tear away your gaze away from Erwin’s. “Erwin just helped you out of your mess, so don’t be too thick skinned to bargain your shit like you’re expensive.”

“Not in my world, but certainly I _am_ in yours.”

“What do you mean by that..?” -Hange.

“Piece it out Hange, I know you know what I meant.”

“You can’t possibly say... you’re from outside the walls...”

“Quite the miss.” Everyone was looking at you, hanging at your every word.

“I’m from outside your universe.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> So our daddies have to show themselves, and finally, reader is going to be in the Survey corps under... Levi? Hange? Miche? 
> 
> So um, still Marco by his choice, he still had to die because, like in the actual verse, I think he was about to tell someone but he was caught by the 3? So like in this story, only it was done later... 
> 
> Also, the sniffing scene. 😆
> 
> The concept of underwear is pretty... far reaching for them. I kind of read the nth century was like a commando or g strings period for these people and I take it that they are kind of living like the historical counterpart without the technology...
> 
> So yeah, I guess they’re like: what kind of cuteness is this? Knowing Miche is a sniffer, and Erwin being the curious guy, they tried to ‘explore’ the newness of things brought by the reader. Hopefully that doesn’t come as too much OOC and make you feel uncomfortable like I did. 🥺
> 
> How do you like the story so far? Tell me in the comments, it is always appreciated!


	8. Ignorance is a Bliss

_"What do you mean by that..?" -Hange._

_"Piece it out Hange, I know you know what I meant."_

_"You can't possibly say... you're from outside the walls..."_

_"Quite the miss." Everyone was looking at you, hanging at your every word._

_"I'm from outside your universe."_

* * *

Hange laughed, and everyone looks like they're holding their shit— hah! Classic Levi joke!

Of course they would. What would be more incredulous other than the notion that they are the only people on in this world and everyone else is a titan? Isn't that what the Survey Corps is for? To venture to the unknown and expanding humanity's territory? You know this is all too big and to sharp to swallow, but it's the truth you can offer and you can't put some more flowery stuff to make it look cuter.

Besides, it's good to earn a little more trust from them. you have no nails to spare when you become the subject of torture... again.

You can't find a fucking laptop this cute, or portable drillers in this world, maybe Marley, but they don't need to know that. Don't they know that when you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth? Yes, you're quoting Sherlock right now.

"Are you shitting us?" Said Levi, his eyebrows twitched.

"Wait Levi. But how do you explain all of these? You can't see these in Mitras nor the government's

..."

Your vision is starting to blur...

Your heart is pumping harder, due to loss of blood...

"Hange..." You said, trying to concentrate. "I'm not trying to convince you, but you... asked for the truth..." _shit, my focus..._

You woke up in the infirmary that afternoon. Your fingers all bandaged and hopefully cleaned. The hospitals in your world smells like bleach and other things you'll consider sterile. But in this world, you can still smell delectable to flies in your unchanged clothing but you're more concerned that you have yet to explain to them what your stuff really do.

The plan: Tell them what you know the tech stuff, but stick to the lone 'messiah' plan you already devised in your head.

_Marco..._

"Yo, F/N!" you said, Hange striding towards you. No one's around so let her be."You'll be held in trial 2 days from now." She was touching your hair, seemingly examining it as if it will be of different texture if she observed any longer.

"Yes Squad Leader Hange," you said, a little awkwardly, but still with respect. You may have lost consciousness a few moments ago and it might be out of leniency because it was closed doors, but you need to pay respects to your superiors. Afterall, chain of command is the thing in military.

"You'll join the Survey Corps right?" She was telling you to say 'aah'. You did.

"Yes, ma'am!" _my rib..._

"You'll be under my division by virtue of Erwin's orders from then on." At last, she looked at you.

"Yes, ma'am!" You saw that maniac glint in her eyes... you're familiar with excitement, and you know, you'll be put in to so much work and craftsmanship you also can hardly contain yourself. You love the rush of having almost no time for anything else. The distraction it provides and soon, the thought of going home was almost on par to pain killers in subduing the pain of your injuries.

And hopefully, you will be distracted enough not to think of the lingering... _sadness_? Fuck that. Of course you're not sad. You'll read them soon again in the manga, just like how everything started. They may be real in this universe, but to yours, they're someone else's past time.

"Let's get along, working together, F/N!" And you couldn't be _so_ excited.

* * *

Your trial didn't involve you taking on Levi's boots while chained defenseless in front of so many people. In fact, it was boring, until you questioned their jurisdiction to your person and that's when you heard Hange slap her foreheard. You addressed Zackley, who is also half amused... and half pissed. But a bargain is a bargain.

"Sir, with all due respect, I am a graduate of 104th Training Corps. My status from then reverted back to civilian. Thus, my actions did not reflect that of any of the military's orders and I did so out of concern to public welfare. " Or because I know who's gonna die that I felt obligated to prevent it! "Hence, I cannot be tried on Military court. Moreover, the law says a civilian such as myself, cannot be searched without search warrant, thus my gear that time should not be used against me as evidence."

_Sometimes, you just can't shut up and suck it, F/N._

But hey, Erwin is wearing a faint smirk. Those cheekbones though. Mmmm.

All in all, you've made your point, Zackley found it meritorious enough, or rather as practiced, and you got acquitted without the risk of another case filed to the proper jurisdiction. See? The law books you've practiced your reading comprehension on their system of writing during your time in the training crops paid you generously. And injured or not, you have to start tinkering for them, but first, you have to explain the stuff you have in your bag...

"This, ma'am," you said, as you unlock the mini plastic briefcase, "is drill and screw bits. With power, it drills holes on wood or to any surface." You patted your trusty portable driller, "if you insert this screw in the driller."And you even provided a demo. The more you talk, the more shocked and at awe Hange was. (Do you think we can open a titan's head using this?!) Erwin seems pleased, if not mildly surprised, Miche doesn't really give a vibe and Levi? Levi was just looking at your stuff. Not that he's uninterested, or not buying it, he's just being his usual apathetic game face.

And you continue.

You showed them that newspaper you drafted your modified gear on, and that's when Erwin had this almost refreshed face, so distant from the air of superiority his shoulders constantly pose.

"This will snap the user's back, that's why I have to put support in the spine."

"That's won't work, you'll hurt your hips the more you use that." Levi said, for the first time, intervening with your lecture on the very thing he is so used using. "You'll scratch your skin until you peel them off. We'll be using that for a long time."

Oh, he's got a point, you admit, because the first time you used it hurt your hips too during the battle in Trost. You tucked your hair behind your ear, a little taken aback that someone so... _un-physicist_ corrected you on something you've been so secretly passionate about. "You're right, sir, also," you looked at him, "the thing about this gear is you use too much gas."

"Then think, that's what you're alive for, isn't it?" Okay, he's annoying but he's making real good points. You hid your annoyance, distracting yourself with a possible solution in the posing problem. you tucked your hair again, as it kept falling. In yoir periphery, Levi maybe looking at you, but you chose to ignore his death stares. You know it's death stares.

"Ma'am, we can make a gas regulator or... make the gas tubes larger. But that's not cute nor efficient." You ignored the manlet.

"Regulator? You mean you'll control the flow of the gas in the gear, wouldn't that off set the accelerator you're trying to put here?" Hange said. Levi left, he probably missed Petra or something. Miche towered behind you; you felt him a little too close for your liking that you had to scoot further to make a little more space. You observed how the squad interacts with each other; Petra nagging Oluo, Levi just sitting with his tea, Moblit beside Hange, Nanaba, Tomas with Miche. Gunther, Eld...

Before anything else, you have to finish adjusting the gear, and most importantly, you have to find a way to keep Squad Levi _alive_.

* * *

Everyone was eating lunch, save that part of Hange squad, or rather Hange, having fun experimenting with Eren. You too skipped it, wary about the draft of the valve for the regulator given the time and shortage of materials you can scrap. In actuality of it all, you were trying to beat the 1 month deadline.

That time when Levi's whole squad will be annihilated.

You thought of sneaking to Mitras to buy yourself some nicer equipments, but you settled on going to your previous employer... as much as uncomfortable it'll be. You had a list in your hands, some spare coins out of your own budget and head off.

"Where to?" Levi asked, his fingertips on the teacup.

Everyone was looking at you, silently questioning you for seemingly blatant violation of a command.

"To buy me some alloy, sir."

"Without company?" He pestered. You rubbed your eyes, almost crossing for staring too long at short distances and suddenly looking at further ones. He was waiting for you to tell him that you won't go without a chaperone, but it was crystal to anyone that Hange was your superior, and she gave you leniency by the nature of your job. Levi, however, didn't believe a single shit you say.

You thought he was easy, now you're reconsidering your opinion of him.

Miche strode to the door, looking at you, seemingly telling you he will accompany you in Nifa's stead. Not that you needed it, but they don't really trust you yet. There was an understanding between the long man and the manlet... and you are in no position to impose any of your whims any further.

You limped towards Miche, offering his forearm instead of that shoulder you can't possibly reach.

You settled on a thick stick to balance yourself, not taking Miche's arm.

* * *

Both of you rode with your respective horses, given you're still not in the best position to walk. As much as you don't like skinship, he had to prop you to the horse, lifting you by the waist. The market was a place of dusty, lively market place, gossipmongers and drunkard garrison members. He was looking at you from time to time, but was unfazed how you sometimes flinch when the horse would wobble too much that moving your fractured leg hurts.

The uneasiness was apparent, he was not really a talker, but you can't let the way things are to too thick to be awkward that it is right now, and hence—

You saw they're about to gut a dog. _What the fuck._

"Hey-" the dog was whimpering, crying to be freed, as the man pierce its neck and drained its blood. It tried to fight back— tried to bite the man, but someone had stricken a piece of thick wood in its head.

It jerked for a couple of times.

Then it stopped moving.

And you're _almost_ not breathing.

"What the fuck is wrong with these people—"

"They're _fighting_ to get by." He said, almost uninvited by your thoughts.

"But why kill a dog? That's probably a family to someone's household!" You exclaimed, breathing shallow, uneven. Impoverished people is a normal occurrence in your world, but not enough to motivate them to kill a customarily considered family! Killing giants was brutal; looking at people getting eaten is worse, but imagine killing this faithful, loyal companion because they're hungry!

You feel the betrayal at its every whimper.

"They're probably breeding it until it's big enough for food. Lands are not enough to plant and raise livestock," he looked at you, a sincere concern peeking in his quiet eyes, "that's why we have to keep fighting-"

"Because as long as we keep on fighting, we haven't lost." You finished his sentence for him, the cruelty in this world _recarved_ itself to you.You did not dare to look at him. You remembered it when he said it and you remembered his brutal murder, comparable to when the dog tried to fight back.

_Brave._

_Wavered._

_Defeated._

_Humiliated._

"I'm sorry, I'm getting..." you cleared your throat, tucking your hair behind your ears, your nervous habit showing. He was looking at you, hopefully it doesn't spell curiosity or intrigue by how different your views are to him.

You hope you didn't strike him as a softie nymph, when all the time you were aiming to be looked as a badass genius chic.

* * *

"You just wanted the scraps? Come on, F/N, you're no stranger, you made this tool!" he was referring to nails embedded to wood planks he can use for bending larger, thicker metals. "Take some more, the business is better because the production got faster and better, kiddo. All thanks to you!" You could never feel more _disgusted_ when your former employer brushed his fingers against your hands; an excuse to pass the alloy to you.

You normally would blush at the praise, but not this time. It just made you feel _uncomfortable_ being touched by unsolicited hands. You of course gratefully accepted the extra bulk of metal you'll have to heat, and mold, smith and cool.

_But you feel bought._

And all the while Miche was just looking at you... nothing wrong right?

Until he was standing a little closer now.

Close enough to feel his warmth.

But teasing that _not_ a skin or an article of his clothing is felt brushing against your back.

As if he was trying to guard you against something...

"F/N-kiddo, you used to smile more. Inspires me to work _harder and longer_ you know!" Said your former disgusting employer.

You can feel his overwhelming presence on top of your head, and not one second do you dare to look back.

"We'll have to go now." You said, evading confrontation as you can't really do anything with your broken physical condition. You limped forward then sideways to avoid bumping to either of them.

_The fuck was that?_

***

You limped back to your assigned bunk; Nifa, your bunkmate was never there, but that is yet to be proven given your short stay. Actually you don't remember much about her, but thinking she might have died too. When? You'll have to dig further in your memory.

Your slipped on to your more comfortable clothes; keeping the Eldian vibe on the top and your personal comfort in the bottom, with gas tube and weighing tools in your hand and drafts on the other, you worked at the mess hall.

It's too silent.

Only your scribbles of makeshift lead pencil and your little hums of Taylor Swift's kept it alive.

"3.486..." you murmured numbers while you write them in your alphabet, tucking that lost strands of hair beneath your ear, the third cup of coffee now awakening your senses...

You measured the diameter of the tube, the weight of it when full...

"At least 15 centimeter..."

"You... hold... coffee."

"So if 15 times ten raise to negative two... divide it to two..."

"F/N."

"Wait a little, I'm doing something—" you said, crouching lower to write as you try to wave whatever they're poking at your shoulder.

"F/N, you should eat something and hold the coffee for tomorrow."

"What—?" Your gaze landed on Miche's.

Leveled to yours.

Too close that you can feel his gentle exhales.

You can smell his breath that smells like...eucalyptus and boring salt.

Your gaze fell on his lips...

And that green eyes that caged you for so long...

"U-um..." stutter you refrain yourself from tucking your hair behind your ear, your toes curled, but you looked uncomfortable even when you had to look down and slightly bump his forehead against yours.

_What is happening?_

You stepped a distance away from him, his intimidating presence and the masculinity of his scent getting you distracted.

"Yes sir," a lame mumble of respect considering you're darting your eyes anywhere but his.

"And try to get some sleep, even Levi is awake now." He said, now looking at the man descending from the stairs to the mess hall.

"Levi," You heard Miche.

"What, you flirting for breakfast or something?" He said, and he nailed that very word you're desperately trying to avoid. "First a pubescent boy at the stables, now a fucking tower. Quite diverse for taste, alien woman."

You remembered Jean giving them a salute at the stables... _so they saw that..?_

And of course all this time from the market ventures to right now... Miche isn't flirting with you.

Right?

Your cringe almost reflected at your face. Never mind their flirting, you can smell from a mountain away the name calling and possible repercussions of all of this.

No one was trying to flirt with you.

And that's what you wanted to believe.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I’m getting late lately...
> 
> I’m so sorry! 
> 
> But I was reading headcanons for Miche, and damn, there were nearly none of SFWs. It was infested with toe curling, breath taking NSFWs and I... I was lost how to write him flirting so subtly at first. I mean, he maybe it’s just because aliens really is never heard of, but he was intrigued of her otherworldly views? 
> 
> Or maybe reader really caught his eyes because she’s so pocket sized for him? Or maybe she can smell that brave, warm, righteous spirit beneath all that genius façade she constantly wears. 
> 
> Is this still OOC? And also, notice that lecherous employer? Miche for a point man. 
> 
> See ya later tonight for another chapter! Thank you for sticking to this story. :)


	9. Haze in the Mirrors

_What to do? What to do?_

You still have 3 weeks and 2 days to figure some kind of strategy to take on Annie's sexy titan form.

And to be honest, you're panicking.

The scene of their death played by seconds in sequence in your head: Eld by the teeth, Petra and Oluo by the foot, and Gunther...

F/N, is this some kind of a watch?

Can you explain how this works?

Why does it has compass hands inside?

Why are there numbers inside?

Can the hands inside really control the flow of the gas usage?

The line of questions Hange wanted answers to were flowing like a dam on a storm; too much too heavy, too fluid and too deep. You were walking beside your Captain, explaining to her how that depending on the pressure and meter that monitors it, it will control the flow of gas instead of bursting it in one go. Moblit, her secretary/slave/nagging mother helped you carry all the detachable parts of the improved gear you'll have to fit for the Levi squad.

"You see—"

**BOOM!**

_Someone fapped too much he grew a muscle of an arm._

"Everyone, calm down." You heard Levi said as you approached his squad. "I told you to calm down, didn't I?"

The fear and hate overridden the brotherhood to their single cause as you see the shadows of fear in Petra's eyes, the gritting of Oluo's teeth, or the shaking muscles of Eld as they raise their blades in response to Eren's titan arm. You can't blame them. If you don't know what to expect from this boy, you would have done the same, however, you knew he was merely picking up a spoon.

A spoon, for fuck's sake, triggered the brave,anxious heart of the Special Operation Squad.

"Ereeeen! May I touuuuch iiit?! I can touch it right?! That's okay riiight?!" Oh, classic Hange. But soon enough she'll know.

"Ma'am Hange!"Moblit said, as she attempted to touch the scorching flesh of Eren's arm titan. The parts settled on the table, knocking the squad's equally hot tea.

A cupful of the piping hot tea was even poured unto your shirt.

"Fuck!" Was the first thing that came from your mouth. It was hot goddamnit, and it didn't help that the shirt was sticking to your skin. It burned, and to touch it stings...

_Wait a damn minute..._

"Eren!" You call-screamed. "Do you feel pain when there's skin?" You grabbed a switch knife, flipping it carelessly in your hand.

"I do. It's an extension of my arm." You stabbed the skinless titan arm, not one flinch of muscle from pain did he express.

"How about when there's no skin? Like this?" You wiggled your eyebrow, as you deepen the wound you inflicted in his forearm, the other fingers lifting that wet hot shirt until it's cooled down to let it touch your skin. Levi and Hange was listening to your conversation. You mean, there's no way he will feel something if he's skinless. By human anatomy, skin has nerves; mostly located in the fingertips. And if your theory is proven true, that means, if sexy titan has no skin...

"Come to think of it..." he took his sweet time to think about it, your switch still stabbing him, but you didn't say a word yet.

_Time to make a ticktock boom._

"Ma'am Hange," you said, the tension already dissipated by Hange's manic screams of obsession, "if it's okay, can I too, conduct one experiment on Eren?"

"Hmm," she transferred her weight in the other foot, a hand on her hip. "what for? Didn't Eren already answer you with that?" you see her smirking, clearly impressed.

You looked at Eren who seemingly didn't notice it until now. The Battle in Trost was a spectacle; Hands chopped and ground, but he continued to fight you wondered if it hurt. The little patter of human feet in his shoulders is something he'll look at as if he actually feels the little nips and tugs in his titan hair and skin.

But is it really true? He can't feel anything in this non-coated skin in his titan arm?

"Oi, alien woman, get on with the fitting, time's ticking, lives to save." Your eyebrow flinched a little, but that little pout your sporting immediately retracted to neutrality when you see him observing you. Damn it, he really gets on the nerves, he's cute and all— you're not talking about his height, but if he would be more smiley and not so mysteriously delicious then maybe you'll also find him more attra—

_Okay, F/N, the fuck are you saying. Don't hop on the bandwagon._

He strode closer, Petra tailing his captain, Oluo following behind. The titan arm already dissipated, the grass burned in its pattern. You clapped your hands, not to call for their attention, but for _your_ focus, as it seemed to fly by the window when you see him striding towards you. Sometimes, women have those moments right? It's normal, human to be attracted for a second, but it will be gone after you book an appointment with your fingers if Nifa won't be coming to share the room.

"I will have to fit this with the tallest and the short..." your gaze lingered at Levi's, "est... because I want to test the back support if it's comfortable enough not to interfere with the work."

"Miche's not here though. You'll fit it in him when he comes back okay?" Hange said.

"Yes, ma'am. We'll start with... um..." you can't decide. He was still _daring_ you to continue your subtle insults you didn't mean to say. It's just that, the situation presented itself, and the situation now calls it.

"I'll go, F/N. I'm the shortest in the squad so..." Petra walked towards you, and there's that _tad_ disappointment that you bit your lip.

"Okay—"

"No, might be dangerous if it's shit made. I'll try it." You see him waving Petra off, and you're pretty sure it's just because he likes to keep her safe. It's certainly not because he wanted you to _necessarily_ grope some parts of him, or that he wanted you to be near him.

_What a stupid thing to think, F/N._

Eren's circumstances forgotten, he, like everyone else in that windy afternoon, moved closer as Levi unbuckle off his gear. You were waiting for him to undo all of it, your eyes blankly staring in his chest, exhaustion for straight five nights already kicking in. You don't eat much these days, Miche and Moblit always remind you to, and still forget about it as if it passes from one ear to another. Some people even regarded you becoming too thin that you don't need the extra torque of the gear; they said it will catapult you faster than Petra or Nifa will, much to your annoyance.

Maybe you'll look forward eating dinner tonight, for a change.

"You look so friggin' silly, drooling at me as if you'll get a piece."

You snapped at your trance; focus in your eyes back at Levi's. He was out of his gear, and you have to do your job. As if you wanted a piece! What possibly could he offer, his smaller dick underneath all the male vibrato? You just hope the twitch in your eyebrows wasn't something he caught, and that rush of blood didn't paint your cheeks. But you chose to be the _bigger_ guy today, not because you're feeling generous, but because you're almost at your cognitive limit. You didn't rest fully well yet after the Battle of Trost, which only took place a day after the Disbanding ceremony. As distant as it sounds right now, no ordinary person would be able to withstand so much bombardment of fighting, then torture, then all these non-stop tinkering and all the Levi squad agenda in a span of not even 2 weeks.

_But isn't this what you wanted? Are you complaining now, genius?_

"Not at all, sir." You said, pursing your lips as you approach the man. You walked closer, his gear seated at the top of the table. He was close beside you, his eyes looking at your hands as you place the bolts and nuts for the back support, then the detachable, thicker canister then the regulator. It wasn't noticeably bulky, as you also made some adjustments on the straps and hooks you'll soon modify. You just hope you'll be able to get the right materials at the market when you sneak out.

A knee supported his weight just beside where you're sitting in the long bench.

His thigh lightly brushing and touching your hip.

You sucked a breath.

You raised your gaze around you; everyone gathered around which explained the rise in temperature. It was becoming difficult to breathe, given how close they are, and to be honest, it's also starting to freak you out. Youunderstand that it might probably the first time to see things such as these especially when it's something they use almost everyday and every time they venture outside but for Pete's sake—

"All of you, move back." Levi brought you out of your thoughts.It was then you felt a cut in your finger, not big nor deep, but enough to suggest that you might be shaking quite strongly when you couldn't put the bolt properly that it pricked your finger.

Only then could you inhale another gasp of air.

"Sorry..." someone said, and you couldn't be more embarrassed someone did.

"It's fine," you didn't look at who. You fixed that lost bundle of hair in your ear; nervous habit began showing once again, as you finished attaching the accessories.

But his thigh is _still_ brushing your hip.

You stood, leaving a space between you and him, letting him try the gear you left at the table and let him tell you how it feels.

"Sir." You said, as his thin, short fingers pick up the buckles. As soon as he was done putting the leather straps, you'll have to assist him with the 3DMG.

"Can't reach it." He said, and you were waiting for Petra to volunteer. "I'll do it for you—"

"No Petra, let her do it." And so you have to do it for him. He was watching you, without turning a muscle in his neck, he watched you painfully by the mere movement of his eyes. You loosened the straps near the back support, and tightened the ones near the gear itself.

"How is does this feel sir?" You whispered at his nape.

"Tighter." And you undo the buckle and readjust it to the next hole.

"This?" You asked, this time he turned his neck to look at you, his jawline facing you, but never did he meet your eyes. 

"The gear's alright, but the back support doesn't sit right." You looked at whatever he was willing to pay you attention for.

"Sir, please conduct a test run before anything else. If I loosened the support, it won't provide any protection for your back anymore." Now he turned to you, his torso facing you completely now.

You showed him your gear, you pointed at the accelerator. "This will make the pulls a lot harsher sir. If it pulls too hard, you'll break your hip." You looked at him now, and he was merely looking at you talk.

Looking at your mouth. 

You have to skip a breath.

"Now if we make the support loose..." the epiphany coming again distracting you, "if we make the support a lot flexible..." you began to rummage in your head of any material that could be flexible enough and available at this world.

"Sir can you lean back a little?" You said, supporting his back as Levi complied. You bit your lip, in the process of thinking how to do it. Or maybe since you don't have much materials, the best you can do it bend to the shape of the spine, andput more cushion for the shock. That won't do...

"Just remove this annoying part, and put the support here," he said, a finger _tracing_ an X at the lowest of portion of your waist. "Somebody's gonna get killed because they can't move a damn muscle."

"Hmm, actually makes sense." He sure did, and that's coming from his experience.

"Also," He was not done yet. "You'll have to do that test run with me." _Of course he means the test run you idiot, not that thing he did on your back._ "If anything happens at their gear, your toenails better be prepared."

"Yes, sir." You hesitated for a moment and by mere seconds decided to commit to his order. You nibbled your lip, second guessing if you responded wrong. You blinked far too many times than you would intended to, and you noticed something. More like you noticed something _not_ there.

_Why is it so quiet?_

Everyone was looking the scene unfolding, seemingly foreign that Levi was speaking to you. You were just taking orders from a superior, you were merely fitting the new gear to his liking, so why is it so quiet like they gave you the spotlight for two.

Hange clapped her hands, dissipating the tension that's getting thicker by the minute. "Ookay! Show's over, everyone, unbuckle your gear and let her do the _flirting_ — fitting!"

Everyone unbuckled theirs in line as you do the attachments gear by gear, you drowned Hange's comment somewhere you didn't bother to pick.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you were actually there, would you even bother reading between the lines of his subtle or rather, non-existent flirting? Because hell to amen, I won’t. He’s threatening my toenails I just painted for Pete’s sake. 
> 
> What do you think is Reader trying to do this time? But do you think she’ll manage something to save 4? 
> 
> Well do you, private?


	10. Cracks in the Walls

You know you just had to do it at dawn.

"The pipes' not working again, goddamnit." Someone who, when you look at him, was that goggled soldier who may or may not be introduced before, so you name him usually by 'Sir' or 'Mister' not really out of respect as a veteran, but because you just don't know how to call him. You, as the youngest soldier in Hange squad was always that person to get the 'demeanest' chore out of all: Cooking and doing the dishes. The Survey Corps have its schedule pinned to them by rotation, and really, no one— not even Nifa or Nanaba for that matter, wants to take up cooking... if they can't help it. Of course, being the seniors or veterans that they are, they always try to take on the easier ones: gathering gears, and doing the inventory for other things.

Of course, you really don't mind. You like it actually. Keeps thoughts at bay.

"I replaced the pipes with bamboos, sir." You said, wiping your already webbing fingers due to excess moisture. Your nails have been really awkward to look at lately; tender to touch, painful to any texture, even water. Imagine fingers without nail. Yikes.

"I have them attached while we wait the pipes to arrive."

"You already placed an order?"

"Yes sir. I did, this morning." That was actually yesterday. You expect it to arrive by... 2 days, probably.

"I see. Thanks kid. Funny, those were really huge ones, Dunno why we always have to replace it these days, shouldn't be a problem in clogging. You even attached bamboo tubes," he checked it just below, impressed there's not a single droplet leaking incessantly like that cue when someone has an insomnia. You raised your chin, little pride swelling in your chest. It just means they can rely on you, nail-less or not.

_But seriously, it hurts like a mother!_

You hissed to yourself,knowing it might take a more while before you can play complex strumming style without wincing:"No problem whatsoever, sir!" You responded, stance like a soldier.

The guy could only chuckle. "You know, Nanaba seems to not like you very much, but you look like you could handle yourself alright."

"It's a privilege to be of use, sir."

"At ease soldier kid. It's just us. Take the salute when Pyxis' around." He turned his head to your cooking; the usual beans and potatoes, but you brought by your own money, (yes, you still make money!) a little oil, tomatoes, onions and milk cheese. The usual bland bean-potato combo getting old, so you just have to put on some spice.

"Well, this is new, isn't it, Miche?" You heard him, the man who may or may not have the intention of flirting with you leaned on the door frame, and you feel your jaws tighten involuntarily. You know his personality is probably that of a protective older brother, or an uncomfortable uncle who feels fulfilled seeing hisniece squirm in discomfort. You see him inhale, taking in that delightful beans and potatoes in tomato sauce. He strides his long, graceful legs in your direction, observing what magic you did in the usual bland combo. He's too tall! Too tall you don't meet him at eye level but you fucking have to tilt your neck just to meet his gaze!

"I was told to meet you for equipment fitting. Erwin will have his too." He said, intimidating the shit out of you. You heard footsteps, and true enough, the commander in all his _bushful_ glory take in the floor with all his brighter-than-the-sun blonde hair.

Behind him was the gloomy captain, whom you're quite thankful; the back support was more comfortable, due to his inputs. But in his words: _'Not nearly as comfortable. We don't want losing lives because of this junk of a shit.'_ You have to take the food out of the heat, otherwise, Survey Corps will have to eat burnt beans and potatoes for dinner. You took the pot holder, insulating the heat at a tolerable temperature, but Miche— rather, Sir Miche beat you to it.

That hold in your fist shouldn't be intentional, right?

"Go take on the busy guy." He said, uttering more words than you'll probably hear in half a day. Long seconds before he lets go and as he said, you did. You tried to fit in the words that doesn't sound as commanding to the commander, but he seems to know what he was doing.

He unbuckled strap by strap, and you just had to tie your hair by a string you inadvertently found, tucking in that loose strands behind your ear as you help him take off the gear.

_But why is the manlet glaring at me?_

You worked silently, and the silence almost drowning you of no air. You tried to focus on the task, trying to wave the scrutiny of the men around you, still, surprised of the improvements of the gear on speed.

"F/N, how does this work? This right here?" Erwin observed your gear in on the table, taking in the changes you incorporated. "The accelerator, that cylindrical metals sir, right there," you took of his gear completely, "gives you that hard pull when you fire off the strings."

"Yanking?"

"Yanking if you'd call it," you said, distracted doing the screws and bolts for the nth time. "It just gives you a faster swinging, sir. It doesn't give you power."

"I heard you're also helping Hange about that barrel gun she was working on. The Survey is lucky to have you, F/N."

"Pleasure, sir."

"And pleasure you take, is pleasure to me."

You were half listening. Euphemism and double meanings at the back of your head and you're not going to dig in until you finish your 'Saving Manlet Squad Ops.'. Their just words, it's fine. It shouldn't get you worked up. You suddenly stood, vertigo swirling your head and you were seeing white and things before you, but it's not registering for a moment. Lucky enough though, someone got a hold of you.

"This happens to anyone when they stand up so suddenly." _My gosh he smells like cool lavender and cedarwood..._ You didn't know you were steadying yourself by leaning on Erwin's chest, but someone else was holding your shoulders.

_What is this drama?_

Erwin was letting you touch him with your filthy hands;

Miche was holding your shoulder to break your fall;

And they were all too very close...

_What does this keep happening?!_

As soon as you gathered your balance, you tried to sidestep to avoid being sandwiched by tall, intimidating men. "E-excuse me—"

And somehow, Commander Erwin just can't take a hint of how uncomfortable this was going for you. He just had to take your wrist to balance yourself, and sure enough he can't do it with not putting your palm on his chest. Moreover, Miche was too close for comfort, taking your shoulder and a little grateful he did not let you closer the commander.

You wanted to push them, tell them to at least be decent enough to put some distance and not _oreo_ you with their towering heights. You wanted to tell them, you're not taking this the wrong way, it's just that Arianne has had this before.You saw that this was how they started. You saw how she screamed for mercy as two by three, she was taken with any gaping orifice by men she hardly knew. She was tipsy and drugged, but enough to pass discerned judgment that every men in the alley was violating her.

And you can't do a damn thing about it.

You weren't exactly in the position of helping, anymore, because when you tried to fight, theyhad to cut you deep in the gut, twice, letting you almost bleed to death.

And they intended to do you next.

_Their towering heights..._

"Oi." Someone yanked your jacket by the collar. That throaty, deep voice in contrast to Erwin's velvet ones.

The air seemed a little lighter, but still, difficult to breath in.

Levi pressed your head making you sit.

"Breathe. You can die when we venture outside."

And you understood why he had to let you sit.

You didn't intend to show the weak form of your trembling limbs. Or the giving out of your knees. You're not scared. They're not going to do something you wouldn't consent to. No, they're not the men in the alleyway. They're not going to stab you and bend you over and wait for mercy or until you wait to feel their dick in your ass while you bleed to death or until police finds you.

_The titans are much worse than that, F/N. Get your shit together._

"I won't die sir. I still have to do lots of things." You composed yourself, tunnel vision reverting to normal, and you realized how many bystanders had been feasting your mental breakdown. They were staring, hopefully they didn't see you squirm trying to get out of the oreo thing that just had to happen because of some stupid vertigo.

"You okay?" Nanaba had to bring you water, and although she 'hates' you, comradeship got the better of her. She was rubbing your back once, twice, too soothing than you'll expect until she slaps it too hard you had to snort the water out of your lungs.

"Stop being such a wimp kid! Cry outside when you see the titans! Did you know? Eld told me Petra and Oluo wet their pants in their first time outside the walls!"

"Stop that story, Nanaba! F/N we didn't—" she turned to you, panicking you might have believed the pissing story.

"You sure sprayed people past you Petra!"

"Stop it! That didn't happen, that was Oluo—"

The air a little lighter, and you remembered _this_ is what drove you to visit their world: the better days.

And you will do whatever you have to, to protect it.

Without dying, of course.

* * *

A day-off being a soldier prompted you to wear civilian clothing. It was not against to wear uniform, but tradition and for legal reasons, uniform is to be worn only on days of duty are extremely encouraged. Not that you're against it. It's nice to launder faint yellows and earth tones rather than always that uniform. Taking a tote, you rode outside; in your head was a list you wouldn't dare to write, as it may raise suspicions whatever you're doing at your old home somewhere in the outskirts of wall Rose.

Huge ass nails.

Sharp stones.

Gun powder.

And the pipe you stole from Survey Corps.

Paper.

And ignition tube. Actually, the long ass test tube from Hange did the trick.

Your homemade bomb in place, it looks more of a shrapnel other than a fuse bomb. After all, it's the sexy titan you're going in for. Probably not enough to kill, you wouldn't even dream of doing so, but enough to give time for the squad to get away.

Unless they don't listen to you.

* * *

The air outside the walls was a little cleaner, and you know the openness of it all was what made it to be. It didn't starstruck you though, openness was not an alien concept to you. Still close, Jean et. al were waving at you, happy to know you're almost in the same clump too. You nodded, and signaled them to focus by two fingers, telling them to refocus and look ahead.

_Now where is Levi squad..._

Of course, they'll be heading the titan forest soon. You moved closer to center rear, aware that you will be punished for jail time for 30 days after. The things you do for these characters...

The plan is simple: find the squad, bomb Annie's eyes before she crunch Eld in half and get away.

There's no additional 30 seconds after she recovers the other eye, but Annie doesn't know _you_ knew that. That, that is what you plan on exploiting. Not feeling the pain of clawed shrapnel in her healing, skinless eyes and the heat she'll exude should be enough to trigger the fuse.

The fuse triggers the ignition tube.

The gunpowder at the end of the tube pushes the curved nails and broken glass out of the pipe, blinding her again momentarily.

And hopefully, it will give you time to scream at them to get away. The gear being faster now, you sure hope they would.

All of you would.

And there she was, all in her heavenly proportions.

You saw Petra and Oluo blinded her, and them ganging up, cutting her joints. You saw them giving as much distance to Eren, while the little cry baby monkey for his life, looking back, seemingly conflicted with the view that these someones will die for him.The wait is over and damn it all to hell, fuck if you can't go back home, fuck everything if you get killed today. Haven't seen Arianne for years, haven't tasted your mom's scarce dinner calls, or that nagging professor in helping you do his thesis...

Fuck them all, _but not today._

"ANNIE!" You didn't register to her. As much as her reflexes would allow her to recognize you immediately, the explosion met her eye rather than your identity.

**BOOM!**

Eld was about to do something in her jaw and that moment she could've took a bite at his lower half, but she couldn’t. Her eyes exploded, and nails and broken glass caught Eld's face too.

You yanked his strap, burning your hand in the process. The heat of the friction almost unbearable to your gloves.

"GET AWAY! GET AWAY! ALL OF YOU! GET THE FUCK AWAY! OLUO TAKE PETRA!"

You were screaming your lungs out, they took your command and Oluo was fast enough to take Petra away and high above, avoiding to be stomped at all cost.

Eld was of the floor, unconscious, and you had to cut his straps that held his blades to lighten with his weight.

Gunther was left in the rear.

And anytime soon, she's gonna break into a run.

The nails and the broken glasses should prevent her from opening her eyes or recovering much faster. Painless as it is, the curve you made at every nail should anchor her lids and iris, prolonging her blindness even longer. She may not feel the pain, but she's _not_ immune to damages either. One more point to take advantage off.

She flailed her arm when she broke into a run, seemingly trying to take the straps and kill you with it. But your gears are faster, stronger.

Gunther couldn't make it by the way Annie kicked him.

Eren lost his shit.

You ran for your lives, adrenaline surging through your veins, further ensuring your and the squad's survival. Now that they have made a little sense of what was going on, Eren was on his titan form, about to engage in a battle with Annie.

"Captain Levi!” Oluo screamed, the manlet looking for his squad. He saw you with Eld, his scratched face bloody and unfixable, certain it will leave scars on the once unmarked face of his. He woke up, now looking at you for explanation, but you're not going to give it to him. At least not now. You haven't thought of any explanation yet, because you were certain that your chances of survival was so slim you wore black underneath the cropped jacket.

Not because you'll die today, but because you needed luck from your trusted color.

He saw Petra with Oluo, and counted the heads that survived the carnage. The twitch from his eyebrow counted off Gunther, and the remorse now sank at the bottom of your stomach. You couldn't tell that excuse that you didn't need to save all of them, but you saved some of them nonetheless. You weren’t sorry you couldn't, because this was all you can do. You gave them some time and he was not fast enough to react. It wasn't his fault, it was no one's fault. You just did what you can.

You saw him breathe a deep sigh, maybe from relief? Until his eyes landed on you. You who might have been the reason why Gunther couldn’t come out. Maybe he’ll think of it like that, but he won’t punish or reprimand you now. That’ll have to wait until you pave a way to Karanes district. Then they can question you and imprison you all they want, but not now.

“Alien, go back with the plan. Take them with you. Meet with the rest. We’ll do something about the bitch from here.”

Before he fired his gear, he turned to you.

“Thank you.”

* * *

The rest of the scouts were at the mouth of the titan forest, and blending in quietly was not working for the rest of you. One slip and titans will be feasting in your flesh, but Oluo now supporting Eld, Petra and you meet with the rest. You know where they had to be, but their captain’s order was crystal clear they have to prioritize their lives.

Not so fast.

Petra tended to Eld’s injuries and the silence blasted their suspicion. “F/N, how did you know where we will be?” Petra was the first to ask.

“I saw the titan running to where could only Eren be. It looked...” You find the words for less suspicions. “intelligent and that’s a big threat isn’t it?”

“But no one told anyone where Eren could be, how could you know?”

“I didn’t. It was a hunch. The safest is the rear center. If there’s an enemy who wanted something from us, Eren must be who they would want.”

“But you said a name—“

“I didn’t, sir.” Now it was Oluo. The shadows in his eyes from the adrenaline of near death still made him on edge. “I was saying a word from my world that it meant saying a prayer.”

“Stop with all the crap, alien woman-“

“The alien woman just saved you from impending death and this is how you spout shit on her. _No disrespect intended, SIR._ ” You had to emphasize the latter for Oluo and everyone to dwell on. Eld stood, the cuts now clearer now that the blood was almost off. Some weren’t deep, but one nail has poked a hole on his cheek. A cut on his ear.

But alive. That’s what matters.

Then it dawned to you: what if they die again in a matter of days just like Marco did? What if their deaths were inevitable? What if they will be dead soon and every planning that you do just gives them a few more weeks or days, like Marco? The burn in your palm searing and painful, Oluo poured his alcohol stash from a flask that it disrupted your thoughts and directed them to pain. He probably nibbed it from Eld’s pockets. After a few moments of silence, he looked at your clear, determined and angry eyes, coming to a conclusion that probably you might be saying the truth.

“Well, the captain seemed thankful so, thanks...” he said, gazing away, an ugly pout in his lips. “for saving our lives.”

“But Oluo—“

“Petra, you could’ve been stomped like a bug by that freak, Eld could’ve been eaten, and I don’t even know how I’m still alive.”

“Oluo’s right, Petra.” Eld turned to you wincing everytime he moves a muscle in his face. “Though you’ll be punished for grave insubordination, you have our thanks.”

You could only bow. But you know this is far from over yet.

“And also, your story will have to proven just yet.”

“Yes, sir.”

Soon, you’ll gather your dead, and retreat to Karanes district. You might face the consequences of your actions soon, but you relieved yourself at the thought that Levi will not make that shadowed face like he did in the book.

He didn’t lose Petra and the rest of who were left this time, and that’s enough for you.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late but hopefully, the length and the plot tweaks compensate it. 
> 
> While it’s not my story to tell what really inspired this episode, but if anyone is undergoing the same thing the character is feeling, while it’s an option to go through it alone, it’s also an option to reach out. We won’t shun you, or call you names, some might take pity on you, but most of all, there are people willing to help. 
> 
> You just have to say something, because we won’t know unless you tell us. 
> 
> Weeeeelll, that’s that! See you sometime later for the next chapter! 
> 
> See yaaa!


	11. Truth delayed is Justice Denied

"They're all talk this morning, look at them back for lunch!"

"At least they got to spend some more tax money for coffins!"

"Look Ellie! The heroes are back!"

You were expecting the harsh scrutiny, but you weren't expecting the scoffing at corpses. The dead had to be dislodged from the cart because some idiots thought it was better to sacrifice the many to retrieve the body of the dead. The book you read about this was Petra's father approaching Levi and talk about his hope for his daughter, while the captain can't start how to break it to her father. This version was, however, beginning on sweeter note.

_Thank you._

Sweet you thought, but the pang in your chest doesn't feel like it. Something felt off— no, something _hurts._ The father approached her daughter, giving her a half hug by an arm, walking alongside Levi and discussing the letter Petra sent him. The ginger warrior began to blush, most likely telling him that it was a misunderstanding and whatnot, but Levi bear to listen. Listening but he wasn't looking.

He was looking straight ahead, but his eyes were focused on nothing.

You wandered your eyes, and the answer was there: more than half was missing, many were injured, but you were not surprised. You've read this before. And to be honest, your memories were focused on the next sequence of events: Recapture of Annie at Stohess district.

And that's just tomorrow.

* * *

You weren't imprisoned for insubordination just yet. The pain in your chest set aside and now you think about what happened today. You couldn't save Gunther, and Levi hasn't accused you of anything yet; more like, he hasn't talk to you yet. Aside from the gentle 'thank you' you received a while back, nothing had been spoken between the two of you, and you can't say you like the feeling of being hanged by the lack of words. You wanted _more_ , but you can't tell _him_ any of the people that. You can't tell him you deserve more of his words of appreciation because if he knew what you know, he'll give you more for the heroic stunt you pulled off today. Instead, Levi and Petra were inseparable, tailing him like a good bow-wow that she is if only in the books she wasn't killed.

_What does this thoughts tell about you, F/N?_

You pushed the thoughts of _greed_ away.

And yes, it's greed and pride talking.

Certainly not because of the lack of appreciation, or something else when you see couples roaming around and giving hugs to their significant other who survived the expedition. You can only observe but not get attached.

If Petra and Levi hitched, why would you care? You'll be happy, yes. But that's as much feelings you are allowed to have.

_You're an outsider, remember that loud and clear._

Squad Levi sold you out, as they should, but the reduced manpower of the Survey corps proved you material for addition. The main characters now played their cards on the table, talking about Annie's identity you'd rather not listen to. You know how this will go, and you know that Reiner and Berthold will know soon that someone from the Survey corps know the identity of the female titan and possibly, them as well. But that wouldn't matter would it? Annie will be crystallized soon, and Reiner and Berthold will be—

Where exactly are they?

You haven't see them in a while; actually you haven't seen most of the 104 main players. Given, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin for the bait, you haven't seen any of them. You're injured, and under investigation, but most likely you were here to keep up with the gears, but why haven't you seen them lately?

_Think._

_Think, goddamnit!_

You were starting to panic. Something you forgot was going to happen. _Something... something..._

Your breaths uneven, the stress cuts you from clear thinking. Then the realization hit you: the raid was going to happen as a diversion for the Ragako village.

You were shaking, and it was so _so_ obvious to you wasn't it?

If Connie, Ymir, Bert, Reiner and the rest weren't here.

If Miche's Squad wasn't here...

The beast titan's going to appear.

Tomorrow, Miche and his whole squad are going to die.

You were panicking. The uneven breaths coming in, the sweat now staining your clothes. Your calloused hands trembling— you hadn't planned anything! The only thing that mattered to you was how to save Levi squad, and you know it will happen but it hadn't crossed your mind that it will be this soon! Your burnt hands can't do anything right now, your knees buckle and even so, you forced yourself up. Bruises and wounds will be gone but so will Miche and his squad be! The difference only is they won't heal nor come back anytime after.

"Oi, F/N." Eld said, his face bandaged up, he turned his face to you. "Oi! Don't stand up, you're not okay—"

You wagged your arm; his clutch was easy to shake off. He stood right up, trying to catch you, but he was still too weak to do so. You were striding at the door of the infirmary, one thought in head was how to take on the beast titan, first to Miche, then to his squad considering the distance.

A hand was restrained you.

"You're still injured, alien. Go back to bed." That voice you recognized even from that simple, almost inaudible thank you he uttered awhile ago. His squad behind him, probably to visit Eld, saving you from the deafening, tunneled thoughts of panic.

And then, the tears fall, only that you swallowed them again.

"Sir." You said weakly, but still did not comply with the order. You did not dare look at him, doing so will make you beg him to take on the beast titan prematurely but would _probably_ save Miche's squad. You're panting unevenly, not only from exhaustion, but the thoughts of how powerless you are to prevent the impending deaths are coming back as well.You wiped the tear, biting your inner lip to stop them from falling, and it did. The urgency creeping back in. You rotated your forearm to get away from his grip, but who are you kidding? He didn't even budge an inch.

"All of you, go back." He ordered, and so they did. Petra hesitated for a moment, for reasons you don't care for now, not ever— that's not important. Someone must be able to help.

* * *

He took you at his office, you staggering like dead behind him. Your thoughts were racing. How would you save both Miche and his squad and not die? Miche's death was the worst panel you've seen— it was humiliating, slow and painful.

Killing his horse as his means of escaping.

Taking his gear as his means to fight.

Letting himget chewed by titans, while he screams them to stop almost made you realized how similar his screams were to Arianne's.

Both assault didn't stop, and both scenes you can't do anything about.

_It's happening all over again._

You couldn't walk any more. Your knees gave out, and the last thing was Levi's face registering...

Then everything faded to nothing.

You woke up, time untracked. You were left with a jacket as a makeshift blanket at your back, though not enough. Levi not anywhere, probably with Erwin and everyone as they discuss what to do next. The door opened—

"F/N? I thought you'll be in the infirmary now..." Petra with handful of documents, probably to answer about the reports of death the occurred in the expedition, popped out in the door frame. Greed coming out, pain banging in your chest. You overstayed your welcome, and his office might be their rendezvous point. Given that they survived death this morning, of course they wanted to relieve some stress, and paperwork was a good cover for it. You don't want to intrude much longer than you have to. Talks of marriage just a while ago rang to your ears and you don't want to get in between.

"Yes, um, ma'am. I'll go—"

"But um," Petra hesitated, contrary to her not moving out of the doorway. Instead, she closed it, and never did move an inch. "F/N, about what you said this morning."

"About what, ma'am?"

"You screamed 'Annie', didn't you?"

"I didn't. I said—"

"It's just us here, F/N. You have to tell us what you know. Armin and the Commander is already suspicious of her, and it seems like you know—"

You just have to give her something to believe in, and let her chew however she wanted it. " _Like Armin,_ I had my suspicions. I tested that theory and I was right. It looked like her— I mean, who could go wrong with baby blue eyes?" You diverted the question with dry humor, her focus trailing on the jacket that hanged in your shoulders.

"Captain Levi— _Levi_ was thankful you saved us."

"I just did what I thought was right—"

"But you should stick with doing what you do best. It's bad meddling with something that might get you killed." You see her tightening her clutches on the papers. "Survey Corps is short on people, so ensuring that they all have the things they need to survive is _why_ you are in Hange's squad."

"I'll keep that in mind, ma'am."

"Also," Petra smiled, "you look quite good with Miche."

"It's not my intention to look good with anyone ma'am. I'm helping because I want to go home." You said, your insides churned, reminding you of the reason why you fainted awhile back. The panic now back, bile rising up, as your focus darted at a clock or anything that might indicate what precious time you have left. "If you have some more things to say, I'll be around, ma'am."

"None that I have more too, F/N." Her other hand supporting all of the papers weight as her other hand scooped the collar of Levi's blazer. "You should go back to the infirmary. Your hands are bleeding."

Something was banging in your stomach when he omitted his rank when she mentioned his name. But it shouldn't matter tonight, you'll think of things tomorrow, before Miche gets killed by Zeke. And heck if you go to the infirmary, you'll have to be visit the commander and subtly suggest things with him, before anything's late.

You opened the door, and Levi was listening at the doorway. the meeting was over, and he just had to stick around the entrance of his own office to listen whatever you Petra spouted at you. You tried to sidestep him after bowing a sign of recognition, and left.

And why, why on Paradis that he wouldn't let you now?

"Petra," he said, his palm pushing your shoulders to get inside. "leave us." he strode in his domain, taking the jacket from her, and putting it in his shoulders. He was limping; the female titan got him on the leg and that explained why he would be on leave.

* * *

You weren’t served the usual black tea the captain is famous for, but you didn’t mind it a bit. You’re head swirling of possibilities that you can execute to save them.

Wait. You said so before right? You didn’t need to save all of them. You didn’t think _‘it was better to sacrifice the many than retrieve the body of the dead.’_ You needed to make the choice: Do you save the squad and the rest of the 104th graduates, or do you save Miche, who has been looking out for you, the very first day you met him in the Survey corps?

Or do you need to make any choice at all?

You can stop. You can just go back to the infirmary and try to sleep it off. Anyway, you won’t be witnessing Miche’s death. You’ll just pretend to be surprised and know about it tomorrow. How do you even save him from the beast titan? You haven’t planned anything to take him on...

But if you choose Miche, his squad will die.

And then the sobs came in, and you swallowed them back. _Not in here. There’s no time to cry. Cry later, not now._

“Sir,” you wiped the last of the tears, “is there anything you needed from me?” He was only looking at you, discerning what to say and how to say it, you don’t know.

“Petra was merely suspicious of you.”

“It’s alright sir.” He was waiting for you to elaborate what you had in mind. “It wasn’t unfounded if she thinks of me as some outsider. Anyone will be suspicious.”

“Saying that, I want to ask before I decide whether to tell Erwin or not.”

“Armin’s suspicions are classified, and you weren’t in the room awhile ago. So how did you know?”

“Know what sir?” The _inevitable_ just banging by seconds.

“Don’t fuck around. Might’ve known you as weird ass nail-less alien, but I’d be killing myself if you say you know the future too.” He leaned in the door, seemingly guarding it from possible eavesdropper.

_ He knows now.  _

I f you tell him the truth both Miche and his squad _may_ be saved. Not telling him _will_ kill them all.

What will you say?

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at another I have some more time.
> 
> Please tell me what you think Private reader. Do you tell? Nah?


	12. Dancing with the Devils

_"Armin's suspicions are classified, and you weren't in the room awhile ago. So how did you know?"_

_"Know what sir?" The inevitable is just banging by seconds._

_"Don't fuck around. Might've known you as weird ass nail-less alien, but I'd be killing myself if you say you know the future too."_

* * *

A bucket of ice water seemed to crown your head as it poured little by little, until it splashed altogether. He knows, _he knows_ and you can't bullshit him with his stingray of senses and his serious, _almost_ angry grey eyes. You don't want to lie as much as you can avoid it, but you can't tell them the pure, unadulterated truth either, at least you spare them the details they don't need to know. You're no God, and you can't tell them who's going to die and who's going to survive, especially that somehow, that theory is yet to be proven by his squad if they continue to live.

That's not the point. You need to find a way to save... save who? Should that be the answer? Can you really not bargain for _both_?

"Captain Levi," You said, though honorifics and titles don't matter in life or death situations. "let's make a deal?" Question mark. He is a gray area. If his character is how you understood him, this better work.

"Or I can just remove what growing nails you have and gut the truth out of you."

"You can do that after I tell you the details of my bargain."

"What's that got to do with me?"

"Because you don't want unnecessary deaths to occur do you? Like what happened to Farlan and Isabel?" Your voice was shaking, all more so when his eyes flashed a glint of surprise at the mention of their names. There came anger, and then a _hint_ of remorse.

And there you were, thinking he doesn't regret any decision he made. Now you discovered, Levi only chooses the option he thought he would regret _less._ Not totally devoid of regret, but less. And when it piles up and he ends up alone, what will happen to him? If Hange and Mikasa, his squad, Armin and Jean-boy and the rest of his comrades go, what more is left of him?

Suddenly, you wanted to keep those he keeps close, safe.

"Oi, oi, oi, care to elaborate where you're going with this?" He said, as he gripped your collar, uncaring eyes heaving you higher, choking you even. "One shit you tell me you're out of this world, then another to tell me you knew them too." He shoved you down, as he stepped at your chest, tilting your chin with his boot."Keep using that bluff on me and I'll break some of your damn ribs."

You couldn't swallow your fear. You couldn't act on it either. You were trapped at inaction that one move will be the end of you. But adrenaline surging through

your veins, exhaustion and stress broke something inside. You knew what's happening, but you couldn't get yourself to stop.

Your decision was out of pure instinct.

And it was pure adrenaline that you _decided_ to shove his boot as a response to not listening to you.

"I'll tell you," you said in between breaths. You sat up and leaned against the wall, your temples painfully pulsating like a nagging reminder that if you don't act fast, not only will this deal be proved futile, but also erroneous. That exposing yourself to him would be the wrong call. "I'll tell you, captain. But you have to listen to me first." He didn't say anything, so you opt to go on.

You told him about a plan you formed in your head, and his _simple_ participation would be crucial to Miche's survival. Depending on the value the beast titan will see from the deal, he may opt to let you live. He has no need to kill anyone; the experiment in Ragako village was done and it succeeded.

But if he didn't see the temptation in the offer, Miche, his squad and _you_ are going to die.

You held some details of the plan from Levi.

Specifically, the identity of the fearsome titan you are going to bargain with, as much as painfully incessant he was at forcing you to admit.

"I'll tell you, but first we have to save them." 

The plan was simple: Bargain your life and Miche's over some military blueprints you have safely stored and forgotten in your laptop's bag. Modern, military grade binoculars in the bag you're also willing to throw in, a bonus to lure the curious monkey to biting the deal.

For security purposes, it is against the policies and IRRs of Annie's government funded lab to keep soft copies of any military arsenals they come up with. Though you don't have copies of the most recent, or top classified information and blueprints Arianne's lab are engineering, you helped yourself in printing out the past military arsenals already out, bought or patented.

In short, the past you can use them for personal or educational use.

In your world, that is allowed.

In this world, it _doesn't_ matter.

At least not until today.

"So you're saying, all I have to do is watch out for your smoke flare, and wait for you to fire as well?" He was bewildered and curious at the seemingly easy task he was being assigned to, by a _Private_ no less.

"Yes sir. That's all. You can leave the papers by then and please take with you Commander Erwin's monocular, and _look at me_ firing the signal." You emphasized the words. "You can't really do much for now, considering you're injured."

"I can still break your bones, alien." The weird icebreaker shouldn't have come out as humorous to you, but it did. A small smile lingered your lips.

"I know sir. But save that for when we get to save them." His cold, angry glare stared you, stripping you of possible defenses that you might've slipped in the open.

Then there came the cold, squinted, questioning glare.

"You _really_ can't tell me who you're dealing with?" He pressed the question for the umpteenth time.

"You'll know soon sir. Please trust me on this?" You pressed it as a question, gut feel telling you you're still not on the clear. But he trusted Erwin with his self driven ambition for knowledge. The survival of humanity as _collateral benefit_ to this madness is still far fetched; and yet he is barely doing something much of a step while he signs lives after lives to death sentences every time they venture inside and outside the walls.

And you? You're risking your one and only life you can sign away to save lives as much as you can.

_So why can't he trust you?_

"I saved you three, you owe me just this one."

* * *

The captain ordered you to nap the remaining hours in the long couch adjacent his desk. The plan will have to happen by morning, and that time too, will have to decide whether you come out alive, or not.

Or maybe only one of you makes it out alive.

What an incredulous assumption of hope. You could feel the sarcasm of your own dry humor sipping out of your pores; the sweat from dread of the possible brutal, painful death made you shake.

In short, your ass's sweaty as fuck.

And sleep didn't really come like you wanted to.

The thoughts of your impending death looming you— _drowning_ you. You struggled with it, the inhales and exhales of your yoga mantras coming and going, but not easing your nerves. The captain was not anywhere his office. Probably he had to climb over Petra's chambers and relieve the pent up energy he restrained from lashing out on you today— _that's not right_ , you thought. The heat on your cheeks creep upward of the double meaning of his 'pent up energy restrained from lashing on you' doesn't make sense.

It doesn't have to sound so dirty!

He has no pent up energy to lash out on you— Petra's there for him. She can soothe him, call him pet names and whatever kink he has. Does he even have a kink though? He struck you as someone who would prefer the rocky vanilla, and Miche...

Miche.

His screams.

_Arianne's screams._

Your breaths become uneven, again, and you force your head to think of other things— _anything!_

The sun was peeking out, and you hadn't gotten a single wink of sleep.

You took your gear, and your binoculars, leaving the blueprints, a mirror and the monocular you nibbed at Erwin's office last night at Levi's desk.

* * *

Where he was, you didn't know. And you were searching for a sign of an uninhabited village, a furry, ugly version of kingkong... and he wasn't difficult to spot: the furry animal is **HUGE!** You fired the red one, telling Levi that you've reached and stopped the destination of where Miche and the beast titan is. By 5 minutes, you'll see a _single_ faint glint of the mirror signaling that he caught up to your signal. The risk was if beast titan be noticed it as well.

Thus, Zeke's titan form must play the position where his back will face Levi completely.

And he _did_ , by stroke of luck.

Your feet started to get cold, your uneven, terrified breaths you diverted to your toes. You gathered all courage you have to the last strands of your hair—-

**"ZEKE!"** you screamed, the beast titan and his minions now focused on you. Miche was out of it, his eyes opened but it doesn't seem to register yet what was happening. All that you know was he already smelled your presence, and the terror you're trying to hide with the musk of little bravery you mustered came out of the following words.

"Miche, don't move!"

As you thought, Zeke was surprised.

Miche still had his legs still intact, but the gear stripped off of him. You can't help but let a sigh of relief. The smaller titans about to gang up on you, and as much as you're happy to divert their attention, man, they're creepy! The shivers they give you when they jump and twist and do gymnastics was beyond you! You monkeyed higher, the blood of Miche's horse painted the roof.

_There is no escape._

"You guys better behave. We don't want to spoil the lass..." He mocked a small bow, a faint smile wrinkled his face. "Fine brave miss who knows my name is surely a mystery."

"She truly is. Imagine the things she can give you." You said, surprised you can still spout that Literature stuff in historical romance genre you were forced to read. You see that smirk behind those eyes, the amusement that someone so _tiny_ like you, would insist a deal with him, as if you two are equal.

"I was thinking of asking the lad if he understood me, but it seems I have my questions answered and so much more." He lotus-sat, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Indulge me, lass."

_This is it, F/N. Make it fucking count!_

"Look at this," You showed him the military grade binoculars you brought from home. "This is called binoculars. You can see things at great distances, even at night, clear as day."

You pointed at Miche's gear in the titan's possession. And introduced it like how an online seller would in your world. "That is called three dimensional maneuver gear. We use it to fly around to kill titans."

"Oh?" He was extending his hand, a signal to surrender your binoculars. "Let me see..." his dark eyes glimmered in fascination, the pout on his monkey lips at awe. He examined it, flipped it.

"I have the blueprints of that, the gear, arsenals, jet planes, cars, and even a yacht."

"Are you buying some time? Because as much as this _fascinates_ me..." He tried looking at it, but it's too small for his eyes to peek. "I'll get those blueprints from you and let you be."

"That's why I'm here to make a deal with you." He laughed, your muscles tensed. That titan hiding in the foundation of a house was moving in. You glanced at Miche, salivating, desperate, _scared_. He stood, and you have to make him stop.

"Miche don't move!" He was still trying to make sense of what was happening, and you don't see him piecing it out by how _terrified_ he was.

"Humor me, now lass." He observed your preliminary gift. "Before I take them from you."

"You _can't_. Not until you keep your word." He started to get serious. It intimidated you; his dark beaded eyes, the shadows in his face... the fur the matted at some parts...

"It's not with you is it? It's an open field." He looked around, second after his eyes got dangerous, and the throbbing in your head nibbled your temples incessantly.

"The blueprints are at the disposal of an _Ackerman_ soldier." You had to emphasize the surname, hoping it would ring a bell that there is someone who pars the strength of a titan. Anyway, Berthold and Reiner will warn him soon, and Levi's identity doesn't matter right now.

"You let us live, you can have the blueprints. You kill us, blueprints are gone." You didn't let him speak, and he was listening, a deadpan painted in his face— you couldn't read it. Apathy? Boredom? Was he simply letting you finish before he decides to give the signal to kill Miche then you? You don't know. But you will keep on talking and talking even when your cavern dries up.

"Tell your titan friends to go away— **_you_** go away, and I'll signal the soldier to let you know where the blueprints are. You've done what you need to do— you don't _**need**_ to kill anymore from this island right now do you? There's nothing to gain from killing us, **BUT I** can give you something..." You catch your breath.

"...if only you let us live."

You can't read his expression by the shadows in his hairy features, and nothing scares you more than silence right now. Even the soft blowing of the wind was not welcoming to the harsh churning of your stomach. Your breaths are staggered, your palms sweaty, your muscles shaking.

He wasn't saying anything.

"Do you have a lover?"

"What?" It seems like you heard wrong.

"Do you have—is this man, your lover?" Your mouth answered much faster than your brain did.

"Yes."

You heard the _tsk_ , "I could've brought you home, too bad you already have a lover."

"You can't spare only either of us. It has to be both."

He stood up, commanding his creepy minions to follow him. One titan had the audacity to rebel against the order, and Zeke squished him like a grape.

"Only at a safe distance will I fire it. You know it right? We _can't_ outrun you." You assured him that you're conforming to the deal. Your breaths haven't returned to normal, you're sweating, but cold. Shivering but hot.

And they walked.

Far.

Farther.

And you fired the green smoke signal.

Soon after, Levi fired it too.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what happened so far: 
> 
> You made a deal of a lifetime with Levi and Zeke. 
> 
> To Zeke, the blueprints of how to make stuff from your world: technology.
> 
> To Levi, you owe him A truth. 
> 
> The plan: 
> 
> You have to find them first.  
> You have to smoke signal Levi that you already see them, and also scream his name to steal their attention to you.  
> Levi will signal you back with a mirror.
> 
> You propose the deal. He accepted.  
> You see them far enough, you signal the green smokes.  
> Levi does the same.  
> Then he leaves to go to Stohess, the blueprints left in that place.  
> Beast titan will have to pick it up.
> 
> You and Miche both escape. 
> 
> Hint: Guess who gave Marley their technology. 😆
> 
> P.S. You’re really not with Miche. It’s just a cover so he’ll let you both go. 
> 
> The next chapter will be your deal with Levi. A lot of confrontation. So much plot skips. 
> 
> And hopefully it will give you more of his trust. 
> 
> Always appreciate reviews! Thank youuu!


	13. Relief

You felt like a newborn taking in his first breathe of air, and you don't know how many minutes you've stand at the roof, blank.

You remembered Miche and his wide, terrified eyes, blinking to life. You regained your strength to fetch him, the tall man still in his knees. Who wouldn't be? Even you think your underwear is a little wet by pee, but the embarrassment made you a little happy. If your organs are functioning well, it just made so much sense to conclude that you're still alive.

"Miche!" You said, and is seemed he did not hear you. He had so much questions, and you're willing to answer some of it, to ease the probable dawning suspicions in his face.

Your palms stung by the salt of his sweat when you held his face steady; you knelt lower to meet his gaze. The hooves of a horse which could only belong to Levi powered Miche's focus. The tall, brusquely built body of the man was trembling— anyone would, save the gloomy manlet now approaching both of you.

And Miche shoved your weak form away from him.

Your cheek hit the dirt, and your were quick enough to prevent the bang of your head by your elbow. Levi was just watching the scene unfold; the dirt on your face, and the icky mud in your hair... you propped yourself up, slapping Miche to give him an awakening stronger than coffee.

"Get yourself together, wimp son of a gun!" You cried, your shaking palms firm in each of his cheeks. "You're as alive as I am, and if we don't fight, humanity is going to lose!" You barked his words back to him. You don't care how cheesy it sounds to you or if the half of a captain was listening— Miche needs to get his shit together. You leaned your forehead to Miche's, his green eyes still dissecting the scenes from awhile ago.

You looked at his green eyes, your palms in his cheeks again, stealing his focus to you and only you.

"You're alive," Forehead to forehead, you panted in his face, the little moisture in your throat you tried to swallow.

"You're alive, _Miche_." As gentle that it sounded a little more than a whisper. His trembling subsided then stopped completely, calm eyes dawning again. You let his face go, a little more space between the two of you,   
because _the_ Captain Levi was watching.

His head cocked in an angle.   
His eyebrow a little raised.   
His small mouth subtly agape.

"Let's go," you directed it first to Miche's and then turned your head to Levi's who was _still_ wearing the same questioning, or should you say _accusing_ expression.

"...home." You tried to stand, only that your knees can't handle another labor. And now that you've thought about it, you've never eaten or drank anything since the 57th expedition. Sleep was also scarce and blood had been spilled due to your wounds.

Someone who smelled like Iris and something else— it smelled like freshly laundered linen yanked you by the arm...

Your consciousness slowly drifted away to the gentle men's mild argument as to who's going to take you, your gear and your horse. Soon, it was decided that Miche and your gear, with your trusted four-legged graceful friend while you ride with Levi's for even distribution of weight.

His smell reminds you of your covers back at home... and you smelled like your gym clothes back at home.

The trotting rhythm of the horse made you lean more to him.   
His shoulder supporting your head.  
His chest was the perfect hard cushion for your back.

And much to your surprise, he never reprimanded you to any of it.

Or maybe you're hallucinating or dreaming.

  
Either way, it's not bad.

* * *

You woke up with Levi shrugging his shoulder. You're at Squad Levi's temporary headquarters where Eren was held to hide before the 57th expedition. Miche was already assisting your alight, his hands anticipating your descend. You gladly took it, though a little uncomfortable the he held you by the ribs, but that doesn't matter right now. You need the rest, and some water and food— any food will do. You just wanted sustenance to last.

"I'll take it from here, Miche." Levi said, alighting himself. "You have to report back to Erwin about any breach in the wall, don't you?"

"W-water..." no one heard you.

"I'll take her to bed, then I'll leave."

"I'll do that. You go and report to Erwin about titan sightings." He was reaching his hands, waiting for Miche to surrender you to him like a sack of rice.

"W-water..." you tried again. _Still..._

"You're injured, Levi. Just carry her gear and I'll put her to bed."

Your impatience got the best of you and you wriggled yourself out of Miche's arms. Limping to the direction of the castle's door, intending not to look at them. But you can't really do that cool (in your head) exit because you don't know where the kitchen was. You looked at them, and if you had a camera, you would have taken this moment, right now, and bring it back as souvenir.

First, the difference in height.  
Then Miche's space between the eyebrows wrinkled.   
His lips pursed.   
And he let his arms hang in his shoulders, his once laid back form, defeated.

Levi flinched his eyebrows.  
That shadowed scowl.  
You hear his signature _tch_.

"Where's the kitchen?" You asked with the little strength you have. Your lips almost curved to a smile by the vision of the two men in front of you.

"Farthest door, right." Levi nonchalantly said.

"F/N, you shouldn't move too much—"

"I was asking for water, but you're too preoccupied bickering like an old _couple_." You turned your back to them, limping away as you search for that 'farthest door, right' direction the captain tch gave you.

"You and I are _the_ couple, didn't you say?" Miche stared at you, amusement subtle in his eyes, and your curiosity won, to look at him, How you wished you hadn't, because you are not in the mood for anything more after the events that took place 2-3 days ago until right now. It felt like you're fighting for a month, and your quota just filled up.

In short, you don't really give a strand of shit anymore.

Your eyes squinted, your face sporting a disapproving scowl, your molars grind together. It was awkward to speak considering how sand dry your throat and tongue had become, and with the faint ounce of strength you have left, you gave them your middle finger.

Cheers to these fuckers. Dedicated to both of them.

They tilted their head to a question, but you're not in the mood to give any of them an answer.

And depending on the situation later on, your finger action will vary as a salute, or an insult.

* * *

You felt revived when the cool, tasteless liquid filled your throat down to your stomach. You took the cropped jacket off, undo the first buttons of your shirt, and you decided to lay down the long bench. It doesn't matter if it's a bed or a bench or fucking mud, you're just tired. Anyway, everyone's out at Stohess, trying to catch Annie. You're grateful Miche has not yet pressed questions considering how exhausted you are, and now that you've calmed down, it felt like your forgetting something...

_Utgard castle._

You jerked to stand, vertigo coming in, blood adjusting by your abrupt movement. You fumbled with your gear, unbeknownst to you until that little movement of leaning in the door frame, that Levi was observing you.

"You know I can find you easily."

You didn't say anything. You're not hiding from him, damn it, you're not running away either. You started to assemble yourself, no time for double checks.

"Where's Miche?"

"No Sirs now?" He nodded a pause his eyes lingered to some corner of the room. "You're lovers. Makes sense."

"Levi, I need to see him, a-and a replenish of gas, a-and..." you were frantic. You couldn't think clear anymore, nothing pops in your head either, you can't form stable, constructive sentences. Your eyelids begged for sleep; you've already depleted the adrenaline in your body.

And the answer was right there, in his mouth.

"You can't save everyone."

You didn't mean to look so desperate while you take a pitiful posture as you sat on the floor. Why are you so... _involved_? In the books, these characters were meant to die, and out of the things you know will transpire, you made it your mission to save them.

Save them, if you can.   
It doesn't guarantee _all_ of them.

He leveled himself to you, you anticipated his dead serious, angry steel grey eyes to stab you accusingly. But he didn't. He wore them plain and cold. Cold, but not angry. Cold, but no accusation.

"A lot of the times, you're going into a situation you know _nothing_ about." _Should I tell him? That I know what's_ _happening ?_

_"_ And you acted quick to make the tough decisions in worst case scenarios." He ruffled your head, then used it to prop himself up. "You can rest here, shitty glasses needs you." You knew he will be needed to get Eren out of his titan form just before he eats Annie...

"I heard Farlan and Isabel's story from ma'am Hange. I'm sorry... I didn't mean to pry about your private life."

"Is it true?"

"What is? I'm an alien? Yeah. I'm not from this world. Do I know what's gonna happen? I don't. Petra said before, Armin and Commander Erwin had their suspicions. I just responded to what she said because I had my suspicions too. Annie presented Marco's gear, the titan looked like her. It confirmed my theory when I saw her fighting stance with Eren's titan." He wasn't talking, but you know that his head was playing questions about Miche's assailant titan. _That..._ you haven't thought of any excuse yet. You tucked your hair behind your ear, nervousness peeking out. You ready to stand.

"That's not what I'm asking you."

You sucked in a breath, jaw tightening in anticipation. _He's going to ask about the beast titan...._

"T-then what?"

_How much longer? Just fucking ask!_   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"You and Miche a thing?"

You blinked. One, two, three that you lost count. You didn't anticipate this. Why is he asking? That was just a cover to let both of you go, but damn it, why the fuck is he asking? You tilted your head, sigh escaped from your nostrils in detour for your pursed lips.

And then your tongue played inside your cheeks, heat in them probably visible but you don't care. You raised an eyebrow, a smirk on your lips.

"We're humans, not a thing." _Just tease him a little._ The scowl in his face grimed, the shadows in his eyes glinted dangerously.

"We had a deal."

"And I already told you. You're asking an unrelated question, captain."

"You don't have nails to spare, alien woman."

"What, you're gonna torture me for that?" You laughed. His expression sour. "How about we make another deal?"

"No."

"Come on, I'll ask you a question then I'll answer yours." He wasn't saying anything. _Acquiescence it is._

"Are you and Petra in a relationship? Like... lovers?" 

  
You don't know what water you drank, but damn, the bravery it gave you hits harder than alcohol. 

But it still made your heart beat out of your ribcage.

Somehow, you don't want to know.

But you brave yourself out because you already asked. 

You're just asking. 

Nothing wrong with that.  
  


_Right?_   
  
  
  
  
  


"No."

And you hope he didn't notice you were holding your breath.

"Likewise captain. Miche and I aren't a thing." 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... why is he asking?
> 
> Levi is one tough of character to write, but Miche? I’m kind of fumbling how to write him. Aside from the timeframe he was given in the manga and the headcanons written for him (which are mostly NSFWs) The guy is portrayed as flirty and a charmer; even animalistic (due to his sense of smell) but hmmm, I kind of went with this notion that he is a silent flirt? 
> 
> We’re going to skip soon to the coup de etat / Uprising Arc. Hope you can picture how reader is inserted to this story, and I hope I’m not offending someone with my plot tweaks. 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking this far! The competition (?) between the two I guess starts now?


	14. Half Truths and  Half Lies

You've been thinking how inefficient their data privacy and data docketing were. After a few hours of reading through military records within the Training Corps, with permission of course, you're able to help them piece out Annie's records from batch 104.

If only there was this kind of computer or something to just store everything in and find stuff by your fingertips, but there's not a single spark of electricity in this place.

You've calmed down somehow, the sweet-sour smell of paper and silence soothing you while you did Hange's errand. You took a bigger bite of the high caloric, military ration than you should've had, downing it with watered down lukewarm coffee as you work with the documents Petra brings in on anything related to Annie, Bertholdt and Reiner.

You know what to put in the report; that she, Reiner and Bertholdt came from the same place, yada yada yada, but any claim must be given some substantial evidence- that's how Hange wanted it. Also, you can't tell them the big reveal later on.

"Petra, I think we got what we need." you said, standing up, preparing to leave. "I'll need to give this before I begin preparations for the ocular inspection for Ragako immediately."

"I'll give that to Ma'am Hange then."

"Please do."

And you know what happened after.

Reiner and Bertholdt's identity revealed.

Clash of the titans.

Survey corps managed to retrieve Eren...

The payment was hundreds of freshly signed lives and Erwin's arm.

* * *

Erwin is yet to wake up from his coma. Your punishment, as decided was not only to help in the inspection of Ragako village, but to clean out Miche squad barracks. Given how little manpower the Survey Corps had after the retrieval of Eren from the Reiner and Bertholdt, the barracks that once hunted fun times just looked... bare. The bunk beds were empty now.

Squad Miche still had no new member given Erwin's not really in the talking capacity at the moment. You found Miche at the roof of the shared grounds of the Survey corps, inhaling the air, guarding whatever was left for him to protect. To leave him alone was to leave him undistracted. For grief like this, distraction is a must. How long did that work for you? The frustration that you must've thought something with your brain you're so 'good' at instead of being piss drunk and thenjust freezing up while a dear _dear_ old friend of yours gets sold piece per piece to anyone who wanted some.

You, waiting for your turn to either die by bleeding first or get milked and creamed up in a dodgy alleyway like a cattle coming back to you. The regret of choosing the other option. The what ifs. People tell you you're too hard about everything. 'It's not your fault.' they said, and you know if you didn't insist on going out and going on the alter route, it wouldn't have happened despite all her insistence that that alley was dangerous.

So tell me, do you think it's not your fault?

Can't predict the future?

It was just a lapse of judgment?

No.

That was you being negligent.

And it cost you someone's _dignity._

But how did the distractions been treating you? Did it _heal_ something? How many times have you envied that someone can be so... near with someone else? And you're not even talking about the physical stuff— just talking. Telling other people what you've never really told anyone, or the things that just comes to you as you learn more what they're thinking about.

Dreams.

Frustrations.

Memories neither of you were part of.

You shouldn't need that kind of comfort because when it's gone, and you've gotten used to it like second skin, what are you left with?

Can you even imagine that kind of pain?

He needed the distraction. _You_ still do.

"Hey." You said, joining him overseeing Hange's and Levi's. You handed him a cup of hot water, a box tucked in your armpits. He remained silent.

"Miche— Sir Miche it's not much but..." you handed him their badges from their other uniform. "I got these instead."

He took them, and pocketed them in his breast pocket.

The silence was comforting. Comforting that it felt so _empty_.

"Nanaba never liked you." Was the first thing he said after sipping that piping hot water. "She said you're weird."

"I've been called names."

"And she said you're not soldier material."

"I know."

"And it was refreshing to see someone so normal."

"That she felt weirded out?"

"Hm." And you can't help but laugh. You've always thought she disliked you because she saw you as competition for Miche's affection— for Pete's sake, he was probably flirty to other women too—something you never actually thought of robbing her off, but now that the pieces are falling to proper places, she was actually quite the silent mother. Just overseeing, protecting the younger as much as she could. Just like how she sacrificed herself even in fear, for others.

And you can see why Miche was putting that stone cold face; but the shadows in his eyes giving away a little of how much at loss he was.

See? If you become too close that you've gotten used to it, and then it's gone, what are you left with? Nothing. Just emptiness.

_So stop being so attached._

"Also," you tendered a letter. "The stuff for her family, they were already sent. This was addressed for you."

He looked surprised.

"And this," You handed woven papers that stained your fingers of charcoal. "She.." you breathe; this is going to hurt. "She had some sketches of the two of you."

_Stop being so attached..._

"I'll leave you to that, sir." You didn't know why your body just did what it did, but seeing Miche trembling underneath all the macho façade required in this seemingly hopeless job is not something that everyone should see. Your arms did not cover him completely from pain, but you're doing your best. He wasn't crying, or maybe he was trying to hold it in, you don't know. You don't dare to know. That much of privacy he needed and that much you're willing to comfort him.

_...but it seems like the plan is crumbling piece by piece._

"She was... about to stop soldiering." You didn't say anything, dreading the next words you realized sooner than when it came out from his mouth. The reason why she never took off her cloak lately... the frequent times she would be assigned to paperworks than legwork...

"We just found out she's..."

"I know."

* * *

It was your first time in the underground. Two words to describe it: dreary and moldy. For the boots you are accustomed wearing in the Survey, at least they managed to be slip-free with the rubber in the sole. The pavement itself was a vegetation for all types of mold: some you recognized to be toxic, some you recognized to exist in your bathroom back home. Vegetation was zero, save the inedible grasses growing from time to time at the higher elevation. You thought every problem would be solved if you just give them some sunlight.

And let there be light, they said. Another plan to do while you prepare for the next battle you are about to engage to: The Uprising.

That part of the story was actually pretty sweet. A victory in the walls; to topple down a corrupt, false monarchy in exchange of the bona fide. But what you're concerned was not the story as it goes.

You're more concerned about your safety. Because this time, you won't deal with the titan of Reiss, you would be dealing with a size of a man, but with the strength of a titan. Another Ackermann indeed. And since no one is going to die... save the Anti-Personnel Squad, you should be more concerned about what to do with the ice burst stone below the chapel and how to generate energy from it.

Let there be light. You've been waiting for this.

You observed the underground as you commit the lines of roads to memory; here and there, here and here. The refugees almost out and you too were almost done. You snuck back to Survey Corps HQ after playing Garrison in the underground, hoping to find that draft of generator you have in your old house in the outskirts, the day-off now almost through.

* * *

"Yo, F/N! You busy?" You can still hear the clashing of wooden plates and few ceramics while the in-charge for the day was cleaning up the dishes. Given the limited manpower, the manlet squad took on the challenge much to the hesitation of his members.

Petra nagging here and there.

Oluo bickering her every nag.

Eld just cleaning up silently.

Levi wiping the wetness on the plates, occasionally tossing some plates back to Petra's and Oluo's sink.

"You missed a spot."

"Busy." You said, not bothering to look up. Your hair in a yellow string of cloth you cut from the hem of a shirt you own, your hands were busy drafting what could be your biggest project in this world.

"Didn't know your taste on men would be tall guys." The remark made you look up.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Saw you and Miche hugging it out on the roof." She knelt one knee on the bench of the messhall. "We were watching. You didn't come here wanting to take home men with you no?"

"Where are you going with this?" You're offended by the remark. Did they think you were soliciting men to bed you or something? You had to drop the pencil and the ruler, you've managed to bite down the anger. "Ma'am Hange, I'm not even trying to do something with anyone here. I'm just doing my end of the deal."

Do women get treated like this in this world? Just trying to comfort someone in need means you're a flirt; menstruating and you're disgusting; being more than capable of doing something other than fighting is an oversight, and not being more like the badass Mikasa means you're weak? And Hange, out of all people, are telling you this?

"Ma'am Hange, with all due respect, I'm not doing anything inappropriate with anyone and if I did, I don't think my personal affairs' up for anyone's discussion in the dinner table."

"I'm just joking! I'm just joking F/N!" She slapped your back a little too hard that the push became a shove. "But I thought Miche was with Nanaba. She was—"

"She was," You stood up straight. You didn't like to hear that she was not even showing back at the Utgard castle. "Miche..." you pondered about the right words. Deciding it was not appropriate to talk about the loss of someone like a thread, you settled with a sigh, directing her attention to another draft you've already finished. "This is a draft of lamps," You pointed at a part and a part, telling her about each design and modification you wanted to do with the gas lamp everyone is using at night. "But this works if we have some sort of energy we can use."

"Gasoline?"

"Can be, but I prefer something else..." _Like the next arc we'll soon go through._

"You guys can rest." The throaty, smooth voice that could only belong to the manlet paused the discussion between you and Hange, your focus now on him.

"Thanks for the hard work."—Levi manlet.

"I can help captain." Petra slipped you a look before turning around. "It's not a big deal."

"You're tired Petra, you should rest."

"Sucking to the Captain again Petra?" Oluo was saying; that scent of jealousy you can smell from a mile away. "No man like their women too available you know."

"Shut it Oluo, I-I just have extra energy to burn tonight—" Now you feel like you have to intervene. Not because you feel for the popular shipping of 'Rivetra' in your world, (you couldn't care less) but because no person needs to be mocked for putting more effort than others. Afterall, it's not anyone's fault that they decide to be _mediocre._

"Petra, actually, Captain Levi can really **use some more** help." The copy cat soon left, throwing some half-asses tch that sounded like an itch rather than annoyance.

"Tch, suit yourself Petra." The ginger hopped as she moved her body. You tried to get back your concentration.

"Oh, Levi! You done? That was fast! Just talking here about F/N's drafts," she clumsily tilted your work, greasy fingerprints from her scalp staining the same.The manlet didn't even pretended to be interested with your lamp drafts, but you see his eyes lingered at that one particular unfinished draft you don't want him to see.

"You've snuck in the underground?" He said, totally ignoring Hange. You can see in that periphery Petra was eavesdropping.

"Um, I helped the Garrison re-evacuate the refugees back up." You were telling the half truth. Hange was just observing the alternate throw of words.

"Not that it's my business but, it's just an opinion. Talks don't go well down there. Your knives do that for you."

"Thanks for the advise sir."

Hange patted his shoulder, and walked away to her lab. You could only guess your petty bickering are not worth listening to. After few moments of assuring Hange was out of earshot, Levi continued.

"However," he looked at Petra, telling her tacitly that she should leave. The stare was understood to be a command and she did, begrudgingly. When she too was out of earshot, he continued. "How did you talk to that fur-ass titan to save Miche?"

"What? I told you, I bargained some of my stuff to free him."

"Look woman," he dragged a chair with his foot, his hand relaxed at the back support. "Our hands are full. Unless you don't want to end up on the same torture cell as that Nick or whatever his name is, you better talk."

Your throat suddenly dried up. The cycle of being under their suspicion as you try to save lives as many as you can tires you. "He was talking to Miche in our language, so it means he can understand ours too."

"Bullshit. You had a plan the night _before_ the raid and you put your life like you know it's gonna work." The manlet is sharp.

"There was no hole in the wall, Ragako people gone, but their horses were in the stables. A monkey who can speak. What does that give you?"

"You knew that even before the raid?"

"I've read the reports too—"

"There were no reports before the fucking raid."

"The point **is** ," you spoke louder, cutting him of his trail of thoughts. "If they're turned into titans, someone did it. Given how different that monkey was, who can speak, he must be intelligent... and human."

"And you knew all of that ahead of time?" He was not letting things slide.

"I think the Stohess raid was a diversion to experiment with Ragako people. That bestial, furry ass titan has something to do with it, given it can speak." You fed them with the some other truth, so they don't look at your lies.

A moment of silence.

"Care to tell me how you know that monkey's gonna show up?"

"I don't know he's gonna show—"

"But you made a plan _the night before the raid_ to deal with him anyway? You can't piece these out without some sort of information no one knows yet." He reclines in the chair, lolling in two feet as he drunk his tea.

"We had a deal. It's over, you can't keep asking..." he was coming closer. "questions."

"You're not in any position to bargain with me, brat."

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, thank you for your patience.
> 
> I didn’t update for so long because I had to step back and look at things. Maybe it was writer’s block, but I had this feeling I’m losing my touch in making an that satisfying in-depth conversation between characters that I had to think and take out some feelings and memories for reference. It took a while, because the songs aren’t doing their magic.
> 
> We’re starting on Uprising arc by 17 I guess. Reviews are always appreciated!


	15. Getting Naked

_"Care to tell me how you know that monkey's gonna show up?"_

_"I don't know he's gonna show—"_

_"But you made a plan to deal with him anyway? You can't piece shit out without some sort of information Erwin doesn't know." He reclinedin the chair, lolling in two feet as he drunk his tea._

_"We had a deal. It's over, you can't keep asking questions."_

_"You're not in any position to bargain with me, brat."_

* * *

"What, you're going to abuse your position now? I told you already what I suspected. If Armin or Hange got the brains to piece shit out, they'll do that better than I did."

You gathered your stuff; Nifa won't be in the room you both shared. "I don't think you would bully a freshly graduate cadet because you want more truth she can't give." He slammed them back in the table, making you aware how silent the night had become. It was just the two of you in this candle lit, cold place. Everyone's too tired to wake up, Hange's too busy to be bothered, Nifa was out for an errand...

It's just you, and captain piss off.

"Speak." A rather harsh tone in the one worded command.

"And if I don't?"

He pushed the drafts and your precious, expensive technical pens on the floor. But it didn't matter right then. You're tired of being under suspicion when all you've done was to _save_. He wasn't saying anything, a cue that he was waiting for you to talk.

"People's lives are at stake here. Stop being a dumb tease and talk."

"People's lives..." you looked at him, scoffing at the irony of his comeback. "don't give me that shit, _captain_. I don't think anyone should plaster a post in the walls how many bullshit your noble cause people and their families have lost."

He doesn't intimidate you even with the grand rude gesture of shoving your work. You continued to look at him in the eyes, unwavering, firm, _believable_. "You want to battle the titans outside, but you barely looked what this place could give you. Your only weapon is what? Blades? You keep experimenting on Eren's hot titan without anything to come up with— do you enjoy his suffering?" He was giving you that look of impatience and anger; that dark shadows in his eyes whenever something doesn't sit right with him. You stepped aside to regather your stuff. You know this night is not yet over, you can feel it.

He yanked your collar by the nape, slamming you painfully on the table.

"Just put him in needles and blades and hope for the best, right? After all, he's a massive weapon for this place, he could do it." You mocked.

You pushed him, he shoved back.

You tried to tackle him, but not more than a second that you're facing the cold, moist wall, his fingers tangled to your hair.

Your wrists contorted at your back and will be broken with one wrong move.

In this matter, one wrong _word_.

"The thing is, what you should do now is not to battle the titans and waste lives you have so little to spare." You spite at him, holding off the scream while he prepares to break your wrist. You hissed your frustration. "You don't want to be caged in these walls? Try looking at what you have right now. Mountains to mine, vegetation to explore. The underground needs something to be done." You tried to look over your shoulder, his palms pressing your cheeks over the moist walls. "You don't need an answer from me captain," you winced at the possible bruise that will come tomorrow. "You know I'm right by the way your pressing _without_ _me_ even putting up a goddamn fight."

After a moment, he lets you go, wrist cracked, shoulder dislocated, cheeks bruised and bleeding... you swear you should cry right now, call in the cops inyour world that this is abuse, torture; but in this world, as much as no one wanted to inflict pain, it became a necessity. No one would tell you something unless you motivate them. Either by reward or by pain, whichever gets the job done.

Pain is better than dead.

But dead is better than pretending to be numb.

You reached out for his hand with your trembling, fingers, scared as hell of the pain he may inflict the moment your fingertips land on his skin. You swallowed, hard. He flinched, but didn't shove your hand away.

He too, was shaken.

Shaken by the realization of how fucked up the situation are? You don't know.

That they are probably doing something wrong? You hope he arrives at that conclusion.

All they do is fight and get killed and waste lives that could have future if only they lived longer. They could get married, have a job, go home and get old. But it seems like their focus is solely on titans. That those huge ass creepy weirdoes were the point 1 and point 0 of it all.

It doesn't have to be like that, at least not yet.

"Before you take a peek outside the walls, at least look underneath your skirt."

You met his gaze. Cold and straight, focus on every syllable you say.

"I can't tell you _what I know_ ," your breaths synchronized, deeper to deepest. You bit your lip, and released it immediately,

"but isn't it enough that I'm doing all I can to save what you _can't?_ "

"You can't do that alone."

"Maybe," You looked at him. Straight, yet soft. Soft but not pity. And how you hope he doesn't see how scared you are with the words you'll be dropping soon.

His hands now steady under your fingertips.

He was looking at you. Focused on you.

"It would be arrogant for me to say I can. But after all the fighting, no one wants to go home, do a head count and ask someone who's missing."

* * *

A few days of peace after Hange pieced out what happened to Ragako, you were sure Levi was going to tell Hange that you know something. After all, your 'hypothesis' was proven true.

But he never did.

Instead, he asks you weird, mundane things about—like right now, while you're helping Hange brainstorm and do her lab stuff and gathering her bloody Nick torture device—

"Do you have titans back home?"

"Do people usually whine by abroken wrist and a dislocated shoulder in your world?"

"Favorite tea? Or do you prefer bitter coffee?"

"You a soldier there?" This, he kind of threw an insult that you couldn't be, judging by the tiny arms and small, 'spineless' form you have. You have to emphasize your job was like Hange's only with more fancy gadgets.

Then the questions upped their dosage.

"You don't have a family waiting for you?"

"How about a husband?"

In front of every fucking one during tea time.

"I don't sir. Please stop with the questions."

And when you're supposed to be alone in the mess hall at night, the questions got worse.

"You a virgin?"

"Not your concern, sir."

"So you're not?"

"Not giving you any, sir."

"I'm not asking."

He looked at you, teacup in his finger tips. "Why the need to play the save everyone game?"

"I don't, sir."

"Someone died on you?"

"Someone almost did." You dropped the pen, your entire focus on him. "It's nothing like what we do on expeditions and Eren retrieval, so I can't make your face cringe on the details."

"Dying or not dying, either way,you are accountable with whatever you decide on."

"Say captain," your cup of watered down coffee long forgotten, "How's that working for you, when the two of them died?"

A long pause. He was looking at you, searching for mockery in your face that would contort in an ugly way, or sarcasm dripping in your voice like an off-key to the songs you sing on your free time.

"I made a choice. It wasn't the right one."

"Do you regret leaving them?"The answer was on the shadows of his eyes. The title of the books seemingly tell the 'summary' of his arrival in Survey corps; that he suppose to have 'No Regrets'. But that's just not plain true. He moves forward because what will be do if he keeps on looking back? Dead is dead, it's not like Isabel and Farlan's going to come back if he continue his mourning for months or years on end. And even if he revisited things that hurt him, it'll just hurt him.

He, like Miche and you, needed the distraction.

But him, the distraction was to avenge what he lost.

You slumped at the seat, leaning in resignation given how much you've been working lately.

And you decided to tell him something not even your therapist was able to get out from you.

"I have this friend back home..."

You don't regret telling him that forsaken memory.

This is bad, because you _should_.

Someone is peeling your covers one by one.

Getting bare, vulnerable and naked for Levi to see.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi 
> 
> Do you see how similar they are? While the gravity differs, both have this nagging regret that they could've chose the other option. The source was different, both had their own ways of dealing with it, and while Levi uses revenge by hating and killing titans that took away people he cares so much, reader chooses to reconstruct and do good for the people, the very source of her torment, in hopes of atoning for her own negligence.
> 
> Dreams. Frustrations. Things both never told anyone. Things you learn in between the shifting of stance and words in between.


	16. An Interlude: An Easy Day of Laying the Plan

_Before the Uprising Arc were few days of peace for the Survey Corps._

* * *

"Hey F/N," Nifa said, while she applied that ointment you made for her as a bunk warming present. "You don't drink alcohol do you?" She looked at you from the vanity mirror, her eyes taking in your comfortable form as you read a book.

"I'm weak at it."

"But you did drink a little when we went out. You got drunk too fast." She was talking about that precious day-off when you, Moblit, Nifa, Keiji and that goggled soldier you didn't know his name went out for drinks in a local tavern somewhere in wall Rose. Although you drank ale diluted in water; the water was enough to keep yourself conscious and aware, while the ale was just enough to make yourself bright red.

Just the cover you wanted.

You semi flirted with the bar keeper; just talked to him, complimented him here and there; really, no contact involved. Then you asked him— led him to the very information you wanted to have. He was dumb enough to give it, and too oblivious that he was giving what you needed. Not until Nifa and Moblit dragged you to sit. Too bad, you already have it.

Kenny Ackermann can't see very well when it's bright.

"I have yoga for liquor."

"Ah!" Again with the contrast of voice and the straight pikachu suprised face, "You're that rumored weirdo in 104?"

Your face cringed to a smile at the earned title during your training days. It didn't hurt now. For sometime you've noticed this, but people have come to terms of your... _difference._ They adopted to your weird singing habits whenever you have the eureka moment. Even when you were giving the cognitive consciousness test to titan Eren, (you made him twerk once, and that was the time you learned Mikasa can blush so hard) soldiers laughed, but never on a bad tone, and some even danced with him, adopting that same stiff shaking of the titan's ass, And the pivotal flexing of his joints. They danced funny actually.

Hange was having fun.

Captain Piss off just have to intervene.

Eld Jinn was the only member from squad Levi who looks at you like you're proper human being, and the rest were either... freaked out, or just plain stunned by how painfully out of the world you are at dancing.

But you're only having a good time. You're not allowed to have that?

And just yesterday, Armin, Jean and Sasha spotted you with Nifa bringing in those 'huge green balls' you soon named coconuts and have them to taste. A refreshment for the newly picked members of Survey corps. They could've gone to the Miche squad, but Miche didn't want anymore recruit, so he operates as one man squad. This was the temporary form of SC, but he was not opposed to work ad hoc for other squads.

He is usually seen tagging alongwith Hange or Erwin's room, as the Commander haven't woken up yet, or maybe he did, your memory has its bluntness sometimes.

"I guess...? Question mark?" You tried to tease her, white ointment sticking in her face... she was suppose to get shot in the head this upcoming Uprising arc, when she wasn't able to dodge or whiff the smell ofKenny's bullet/tube or whatever it was. But in the book, Hange lent three men to captain piss off, Nifa included, to make up with the lack of manpower. But since squad Levi is almost complete no one will die right? Nifa won't die that day because Oluo, Eld and Petra's still with him.

But what if they make up for squad Hange's death? After all, they are supposed to be dead by season 1.

The nagging feeling of dread that stirs in your stomach for days, ached. The question of how many more days you have before Erwin wakes up and Nick gets killed by Djel Sannes.

How many days do you have to finish the thing to save squad Levi again?

_Urgh, always saving manlet's squad even when they treat me like shit..._

"Too bad, we're gonna throw a party for the new members of the Survey Corps tonight. Come with?"

"I'm assigned to cook, actually." You dropped the book. "Survey‘s generous tonight."

"Very few survived the expedition, so we ought to cheer things up a little bit. It was squad leader Hange's idea."

"Didn't know." You tucked away the book you borrowed from Hange's personal collection, the last thought of your plan in your head. "Guess I'll tag along," now putting on that plain linen dress. Nifa stared at your torso.

"Did anyone tell you how small your frame is?"

"Food is scarce Nif, of course I'll be thin."

"But not _that_ thin. Petra had been telling me to give you more food lately. She said you won't be able to do a thing by how birdlike you eat." Now this got you curious. It's not a secret of how she throws glares at you sometimes, but you don't know she's actually looking out for you that sometimes she probably tells Nifa to give you 2 set of rations instead of just 1.

_So Petra has something to do with that..._

"I guess that's because I'm usually functioning by coffee." You tucked your sleepwear in your covers, boots already worn and laced; you pocketed that yellow string to tie your hair in case it gotten too warm in the kitchen. "But that's how I function at home too." you murmured to yourself. Gotta change that eating habit...

"Then come with. Petra's dad gave us vegetables. Bring your guitar with ya." You couldn't bring to remind her you were missing the nails and your wrist can't take the neck.

* * *

You saw the remaining of 104 about to gather food stock from Petra's dad for the evening banquet, everyone motivated to get a piece of that starchy potatoes and crunchy carrots they usually harvest. It's kind of getting old. Not that you're complaining, but the same old combination of bland boiled potatoes and carrots burned your throat if not your tongue. You gathered your gear, telling Jean, Mikasa, Connie and Sasha to do the same.

"You mean we're going to hunt for meat today?!" Of course Sasha will say this.

"South is dangerous you know, too much wild animals." Connie rebutted.

"Yep," You left the blades aside "Been reading about that wild boar in the south though. They're actually becoming pests because they ransack the fields. Too strong for civilians but easy peasy for you guys. Mikasa?" You turned to her, asking in between the lines if she could leave Eren duty for a little while and help with the boar hunting.

"I think Eren might need some more meat to continue with the experiments." You smiled at her. "So he'll have more strength to go on because dear, Hange's quite the pusher."

She nodded, determined to feed Eren that umami, stiff, stringy meat of wild boar.

"Might need two though. You think we can get someone else to help us? Connie?"

"I can help—"

"No, Jean. You help with the potatoes and carrots please."

"Need help?" The eucalyptus and boring salt towered over you. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, Miche now wearing that little smirk of amusement. That condescending smug he gives whenever he sniffs someone now registered in your eyes.

My goodness, it felt like a really long time since you've seen that. At least, even if it looked forced.

"Getcha your gear sir!" You know his sense of smell's handy for this.

* * *

You came back with 2 wild boars, handful of wild tomatoes, walnuts, gingers, bamboo shoots, pears and some residents who saw the majestic defeat of the beings that haunted their farmlands contributed some oil, garlic, onion, few leaves of lemon grass and salt as reward. You can't miss the ogles of women on Miche, which he reciprocated with equal flirting. See? It's not just you.

_Nanaba will kill him if she sees this._ You blinked your eyes to keep the sad thought that followed after, away. Or maybe she's gotten used to this, and maybe she knows he won't get past that line where she had to throw him doubts about their relationship. The details, you don't know. But you're a little happier that Miche was trying to live even with how much he lost.

_Distractions and moving on, where do you draw the line?_

You let Connie threw in the contents of the knapsack at the back door kitchen, telling the kids what these and that were, when all they've known about was potatoes, bread and carrots.

"That," you let Mikasa take the husk, and then crack the shell, "is a walnut." You let them piece it out for everyone to try. "You see how this looks? They're good for your brain because it looks like a brain."

You let them savor the slightly bitter, crunchy, almost greasy feel of the nut in their mouths.

"I've never had these before."

"You sure this is edible, F/N?"

"Yes, sir Miche."

"F/N, you have this in your world?"

"We do, Jean. It's just sporting a different packaging."

"I've never had so much tomatoes. Mom said they're a little cheaper when it's summer time and they cost 3 gold for three pieces on winters." Connie said, trailing off about the memory of her mother.

You kind of pity the kids now. All they ever knew was fighting and fighting and not even thinking about the in betweens. These times of peace were what they yearned to protect and deserve, and yet... they never actually thought of it. It would be arrogant of you to pledge to them that you will give them a future— you can't be responsible for that. You can't be responsible giving them the freedom outside the walls just because you know what happens ahead. But at least they get to know what they have within the walls. 

You _can't_ offer them freedom, but you _can_ offer them knowledge that _leads_ to it.

_Silently._

True, wall Rose has less to offer than the breached Wall Maria, but it's vast enough to explore the details of the terrain. That walnut they're sharing right now is setting an example.

"What is thi—"

"Don't eat that!" You took it from Connie, alarmed at how he sank his teeth on Carolina peppers. You winced at his tongue's suffering, at the same time, you could laugh at how silly he looked. "They're really spicy man. Get yourself some water."

"Are these poisonous? Why would you even take that?!" He spoke with his tongue out, half coherent words blabbered and spitted out.

"They're not poisonous Connie, right Sasha?" She gave him a jug of water.

"Yes, dad told me they're really spicy."

You saw the veteran Levi squad taking their tea, their attention at the commotion you caused inside. You were aware that they were eyeing _your circle_ while briefing them what to do. Sasha took care of the gutting and removing the organs of the pigs, telling her to clean them like this and then set them aside for some Muggety pie later on. You can't help with the preparations and they were accommodating enough to cover you with your duty. Having nothing to do but teach them how to slice and to dice, you slipped in a conversation with Mikasa, giving her one of the handful of walnuts left.

"You should give them to Eren and Armin." She was surprised.

"But it's a precious—"

"There's still some left, it'll suffice."

"Are you sure, F/N?"

You nodded in affirmation as she slipped it in her breast pocket, her blushing, refreshing smile contagious that you can't help but smile back.

"Oh! Looks like we're having a feast tonight!" Eld entered the kitchen, the powerful smell of the garlic and onion a welcoming assault to his nose.

"Yeah, we'll try to give—"

"F/N, the uh, big log is ready." Connie was referring to the bamboo shoots. You gave him the pepper, asking him to give it a thin slice.

"-yeah, thanks Connie—" you turned to Eld, "we're trying our best sir."

"It's just us, it's fine." He ordered you to drop the formalities. You heard the blob of the meat boiling with some herbs the townspeople threw in, telling Jean to set it aside and start with the potatoes.

"Busy? Captain told me to keep an eye. He's not picky with food, but he wants to make sure what he eats is clean."

"Very. Tell him nothing to worry. Don't wanna get hanged because I poisoned dirty the whole SC with food."

"And that you keep the place clean."

"Not for the moment, Eld." He laughed at this. "But will do."

* * *

It's been an hour to two and the feastful variety of dishes were almost ready. Sautéed meat in pears and potatoes, sautéed meat in bamboo shoots, pickled bamboo shoots and carrots, onion potato soup, candied walnuts (you spent 3 gold coins for the dairy and sugar, damn the prices were total rip off!) and some Muggety pie for anyone who wanted more of the entrails. The rest was preserved with the remaining salt and chili you got, and some hanged over and smoked for future consumption.

Historia was silent, Eren already woke up from all the experiments Hange had put him through. He said the walnuts was too greasy, but he liked the crunch it gave between his teeth. Armin, however bombarded you with questions that you directed his enthusiasm for Mikasa to answer.

You left the kitchen, giving them space as they talked about Historia's big reveal.

* * *

The portions for every table equally plenty for soldiers that they just started to gang up on the plates, cleaning up the meat viand faster than lighting could. The squad leaders settled too, beside them were the veterans members, but you preferred to slip in with Connie and Mikasa's between, taking the farthest meat away from Sasha just sitting opposite of you, before she gobbled down everything probably even the plates.

"Say F/N," Jean started, "is this some native cuisine in your world?"

"Hmmm," mumbled, reaching that pears, potatoes and walnuts in with the sauce while you chew the last of the meat. "My world is a hodgepodge of stuff. It's a recipe I don't know where from, but it's just there." In the corner of your eyes were a glaring manlet and a super accommodating Petra.

"So your land is not enclosed with walls? You don't have titans there?"

"Nah," you downed the food with water. And with that, you're done eating. Now your head pondered at what might happen when the ripper comes from behind. Doesn’t matter who's with Levi, and who're rallying that cart,you must do something about it. Your best bet was the squad Levi veteran's gonna do all of that, and if Petra's going to take Nifa's place, then that means, she's going to get shot in the head...

_The plan better work._

"Some music would be nice right now!" Jean said, tapping you by your newly taped dislocated shoulders. You flinched at the pain, distracting you from thoughts spiraling your conscience. The mess hall is a little warm right now, given the amount of lamps from each side of the corners.

"Jean, that fucking hurt man, stop it."

"Heard you saved Sir Miche and Levi squad last expedition!" He swung his mug, "Didn't know you can do it skeletal weirdo!"

"Heard your ass almost got eaten last expedition, didn't know they crunch horses for breakfast, long faced man!"

The bickering continued and ended, fights ensued and forgotten. You hear Eren talking to Jean about him being useless on the experiments Hange was conducting, and the thoughts again slipped through your head.

Take on _the_ Kenny Ackermann? He lived most of his life in the underground and that kind of gave you an insight at how bad his eyesight in the daylight probably is.

_So that's why he keeps on wearing that fedora..._

Your plan is probably workable with broken wrist and dislocated shoulder. But the shoulder should be fine untaped soon. The moment you decide to go the other option and double Petra, is the moment he'll surely blow your head off.

You took your plate and you went back to work on stun grenades you hid in your room.

The plan:

Aim for the roof.

Shoot the grenades.

While the Ackerman is disoriented, take the man with the captain, hijack that wagon, and hope for the best.

* * *

You went for the highest roof, a stun grenade in your hand, you pulled the ring as you let the string of bow upwards, counting the seconds it took to make the disorienting flash of light and the loud bang. It gave you an assessment of how far you’ll need to aim with Sasha’s extra bow, the grenade being your makeshift arrow.

“10 seconds...” you murmured to yourself, nodding so while jotting it down to memory. Calculating that you might need to stick nearer considering the weight, you began to picture where to position yourself on a higher elevation.

“Oi.”

“I’ll need to be at least... um, 10 meters the projectile should be...”

“You did that flash of light awhile back?”

“Wha—? Yeah...” The familiar timbre and the realization that you’re not alone... you took the answer back immediately. “No! No sir, probably some lighting from far away.” Your face remained passive, but you know he can see through the lies as he looked at your cemented wrist with the pull ring still attached on it.

“That’s what they thought inside. Playing the saving game again? What’ll happen this time, some civilian dying tomorrow or something?”

“It’s not nice to normalize dying sir.” He took a seat at the roof, the distance of an arm between the two of you. “Especially when someone could’ve done something about it.”

“It’s not? Maybe I’m abnormal because I’ve seen too many abnormal things.” A pause. He looked at your wrist,“I’m sorry about the wrist and that” then he nodded to your shoulder.

“It’s gonna heal. You just did what you think was right sir.”

Another pause.

“What’re you up to? What’s that flash of light?” The questions again.

You don’t want anymore broken bones to be honest. Your leg still have to heal from the battle of Trost, your nails from the torture haven’t grown yet, and Levi breaking your wrist. You pondered how much information you can give him, but it seemed like a few days was all he needed to dissect all the words you’ve said to him that night.

He knows you know something.

And he knows you mean no harm.

The only thing was, he kept on insisting that you tell the Survey Corps information that would lead the humanity to ‘victory’. But if you do that, you’ll play god to them, telling them this is gonna happen, that thing is gonna happen... and if it didn’t? You already meddled with the story you read, and now it’s just not the same anymore. Who knew that your attempt at saving the squad and Miche would result to this different story? Miche helping you hunt, Levi and his squad having tea just this afternoon and probably, put their life to test in the near future. Nifa is supposed to die next, but if squad Levi is going to take that instead... the progression is similar, but the people’s movement is so different you felt invasive to their world.

It felt personal.

Private.

_Intimate._

_Real._

“That? That’s a flash grenade.”

“Where did you learn making it?”

“I work— well, work _ed_ at a military facility in my world. I studied making some old models of arsenals and technology back home.”

“And you used it for..?”

“Flash grenades are used to disorient people. So cover your ears when you see that flash of light, yes Corporal?” You winked at him.

“Are you going to use it in the future?”

“It might come in handy. Already have the draft submitted to Hange. I don’t know if it’ll work against titans, but it works well for humans.”

“So you’re going to use it on humans?” You talked too much. _Shit_ , his eyes glowered in threat and curiosity.

The inferences he made were spot on: why would you make something against humans? Are you going to fight against humans this time?

_Who are you trying to save this time?_

“I’m proposing it Hange so we can experiment if it works on Eren.”

“I thought you didn’t like the idea of torturing him?”

“We’re disorientating him for 5-10 seconds. It’s not like I’m gonna use blades to chop him off like you guys do.”

“The food’s not bad by the way.”

“Thank you.” you remembered Petra was asking you the pear and walnut recipe. “I’ll give the recipe to Petra so she can cook that for you—“

“I thought we’re already past that shit? We don’t have a thing. She doesn’t need to cook for me.”

“You know, it’s quite obvious she likes you, if you don’t notice.” You pursed your lips while averting your eyes, realizing you probably talked too much. “But probably not my cue to say anything.” You scooted further, more than an armful in between.

“Doesn’t matter. She has a future ahead of her.”

“And you don’t deserve her because you don’t have one?”

“Because when we’re done fighting the titans outside, only then I get to think about future and shit like that. The air in here stink shit, and I’ve never noticed it until I went outside— I’ve lived here long enough not to notice.”

“So you’re thinking about future too, huh?”

He didn’t say a word.

“How about a future with her?”

“What will you do when you go back home? Don’t you want to stay instead?”

That thought was at the back of your head. A future in here? Soon the walls are gone, and probably all humankind too, save this tiny island the isolated them for a hundred years.

Or if the story allowed it, a future _with_ him? _Them?_ Is that plausible? How about the life you have back home? Arianne? Your family? Your plan of breaking away from that life sentence of signing fictional books to scientific journals that has the potential to get a piece of Nobel’s inheritance?

“I don’t know, Levi.”

“Thought you have it planned out when you go back home?”

“No, that’s not it.” You looked at him, the uncertainty can be seen by the glimmer of the moon and the tucking of your hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know if I wanna go back.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think what the reader is trying to say was she already meddled with the plot, and given that theory of Butterfly effect, once she meddles with even the littlest of things, she’s actually meddling at something much more complex... that even her will to go home, changed? Can't be right? She has a life beyond this story.
> 
> But look at the things she had to consider right now: Children to teach, a civilization to improve, and this normal day. It was so different from that mundane, predictable, listless days she had back home. The survival of everyday made her somehow look for better days ahead. It’s not that she’s playing hero, but to sum it all up: Despite all the deaths and frustrations she had that will soon change, she’s beginning to like her stay in this world.
> 
> And she’s beginning to admit she’s becoming attached.
> 
> We’re done with the relaxed part, time to buckle up with the Uprising. 
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	17. Impending Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ambush and the Chase.

Hooded figures gathered at higher elevation. You trekked to Miche and Levi's rendezvous, trailing behind Moblit as it joined the other two squads.

At least they're complete, you thought; your personal effects tucked at your house on the outskirts of Wall Rose days prior; your necessities, specifically your shrapnel and stun grenades, in your knapsack. Now this was the difficult part, where Hange will lend some of his people to Levi supposedly—

"Miche, F/N," Hange said, your fate was sealing itself to bargain, because it felt like you're missing a very crucial miscalculation. "you'll be joining Levi squad. Oluo and the rest, come with me."

The plan was simple:

Armin and Jean double Historia and Eren.

The Interior police's plan was:

Ambush the Survey corps.

Each person had a role to play.

Petra and the Levi squad veterans were on the lookout in the roofs of Trost.

Connie and Sasha on guard at Reeves' hideout;

Eld punched some guard in the gut; Miche did a roundhouse kick to that pedophile who was molesting Armin, and Mikasa? Mikasa kneed Sannes in the face! You shouldn't be happy about these happening, but seeing it in action even if it's a little different and at a far distance sent your adrenaline to numb that pain in your barely functional shoulder and cemented wrist.

You? Levi kept you close, a puzzling and scary turn of events. Because one thing for sure: whoever was with him, gets to be killed.

Maybe because since you're not really in the shape to fight, yet you wonder why Hange put you in their team. It’s easier to avoid fighting with them. Is it because your meddling with the timeline that the timeline is trying to get back to its proper turn of events? You don't know. But maybe this is how it should be when the other members made it alive this far in their world.

This was not how it was like you know it, and you're scared. Because there was this nagging feeling that something very wrong is going to happen...

"Connie! There's three of them, is that really everyone?!" Mikasa said, tying them on the wrists.

"Yeah! That's everyone. There's no one else nearby!"

Miche gave the buzzcut boy a nod of confirmation.

Levi had a hunch as he told Miche, but it was more of a tip you carelessly gave him last night when he asked you about the stun grenades. The hint that soon, you will be fighting and possibly killing human beings from now on.

_"...I don't know if it'll work against titans, but it works well for humans."_

He might mean that he was keeping you on his side because he wantedto know more of what you know. Did Hange know about this that's why she put you in his squad? Or did captain piss off just told her to put you on his squad? Afterall, you gave him a clue, and you know he's waiting for you to give out more information as to who you are fighting this time. Humans, as a target was too vague.

"We'll give you Krista and Eren, but you'll have to accept three conditions."

The persuasion of Dimo to ally with the Survey Corps proceeded as it should, and it was more comical than you've read it. A tinge of smile you thought was just human error in the printing of the books was present in Levi's face when reached out his hand to shake Dimo's.

So it was intended, that smile. You thought, his tea worshipping system seeping as his ulterior motive on the third condition.

* * *

"AAHHHHHH!!!" The screams were louder.

"God, I didn't sign up for this," said Jean, as the screams got louder. "We don't even know who our enemies are!"

Connie was covering his ears. Petra was petrified.

Their sense of justice put to a test.

Everyone was uneasy, except Eren. It was like an accepted collateral. And it was true. The torture of Sannes as Hange and Levi tag team the answer out of him was a necessity to arrive at an answer. But he won't talk, at least not yet. You can just barge in the room and tell them the secret of the walls to make everything easier, but a big part of you wanted to let the situation unfold itself to prolong the pain.That man was responsible torturing Erwin's father, killing Armin's parents and other people the books never bothered mentioning.

Pain and suffering in this world became a motivation, to live, that you agree with Eren to a certain degree. But lives, no matter how little or how many, is too expensive for a simple wish of knowledge and innovation.

And now, you regret telling Levi about not looking at their own surroundings, because it wasn't their fault, the false monarchy was. They prevented the advancement of humanity because of they wanted that pension house in the rich south, or that latest coat, adorned and hand stitched in Mitras.

"You guys okay?" Miche asked the young 104s and Petra, clear torment in their faces. Everyone still hears the pig-like cries of Sannes, and you could tell it was still Hange doing the job by how louder the screams were. Krista served the tea and the rations, but no one, not even Sasha can stomach eating along with Sannes' screams of agony.

"We're all criminals now, aren't we sir? Our enemies are enemies not because they eat us, but because we differ in the ideas... or maybe just because we are in a different group." Armin's eyelashes made that effect under his cheeks, in his eyes were the realization.

"We might have to take people's lives for reasons like that now... we," the room was intent on listening to what the genius have to say.

"We aren't good people anym—"

"That's enough." You shoved the military ration in Armin's mouth. You don't really want to meddle to the coup d'etat, but to see 15 year olds being at the center of it all just didn't sit right. 15 year olds in your world were busy at school, or at least how you knew it or it's supposed to be, or be out on a date or something, but not like _this_.

Not staging a revolution, and are forced to listen to screams of torture while pretending the military ration and tea taste better with Sannes as playing Aria. 15 year olds aren't supposed to be forced to grow up and act like 45 or 50. It's not that you're forcing your unworldly ideas you are accustomed for more than 2 decades— you know that the circumstances in this world forced them to act older... But there's just so many things they're missing. And once the time passed, 13 years if you're a titan shifter give or take, or probably tomorrow...

They'll just be empty, exhausted and PTSD filled war-torn remnants waiting for their turn of death to come knocking. Regret of missing the best days they could've done this or that. Instead it was wasted on things like listening to that MP motherfucker, or getting harassed by a pervert or eating bland military ration.

Then they'll force themselves to justify their regret that it was worth it. They did something for their world, even if they did not do anything _for themselves._

You don't want that for these kids.

Even if you don't believe it yourself, you'll give them something they need to hear.

Because they're _still_ kids.

You just want some part of their lives to be normal. Is that too much to ask?

"Let the grown ups deal with the overthinking." You looked at Miche, "The table's off limits to—"

"Stop being condescending, F/N." Jean butted in. "Of course this makes everyone uneasy, we might be killing humans when we signed up killing titans. We're putting our conscience in this and we have the right to ponder over it."

"Yep, can't deny you'll probably be staining our hands tomorrow," you rested your hands on Armin's shoulder, knowing _exactly_ that he will pull the trigger to save Jean from a gunshot. "since we can't choose a solid white now. One way or another, it's going to be mixed with another color. But it's not yet here so there's no use thinking about it. When it comes to that point you gotta choose, then choose the lesser evil you'll regret the least." You massaged Jean's scalp, and Connie's buzzcut, hopefully easing their nerves. "Otherwise, don't kill yourself overthinking about something that's not yet here." Everyone was looking at you.

"Try to eat, and we can all sleep together later. We can sleep better that way." You offered your spare ration to Petra, her eyes now focused on the high calorie food.

* * *

That morning of Levi throttling Historia and the big revelation of making her queen made everyone awake even with the sleeplessness.

You know it won't matter, the plan.

Historia and teenage rebellion will be captured.

Dino Reeves will be assassinated.

Survey Corps will be framed up.

And even the 104s were doubting their captain.

All by the Anti-personnel squad by Kenny Ackerman. The likeness of his MO to Jack the Ripper, made your spine shiver.

"They'll most likely be carried in some kind of a disguise.” You remembered saying to him, hinting that Eren and Krista would be carried in a hearse. And there your were. Nifa went back to Hange. Petra and Eld in the position of the two soldiers from Hange's squad that is supposed to be shot in the head. And you were the with the Captain.

In the rooftop.

Alone.

And waiting for Kenny to take your life as you knew in the story.

He caught on, and predicted like so.

"Have you heard of Kenny the Ripper?"

* * *

You weren't listening to a thing he said. Muscles tensed, all adrenaline focused at the back of the roof, 2 stun grenades in your cloak, rings already pulled out. You let it roll down, 4 seconds more before it explodes and hopefully disorient the old Ackerman. Levi caught on to the sound of whatever you're doing, and you rolled another 1 to just make sure that if the two missed, you'll get him on the last. You can't be too cheap when you're life depended on it.

_Tch_. he said in a gritted, panicked face.

The first two were probably overkill, and you covered your ears just in time to hop on below, your focus of scooping Petra out of that alley but not in time for you to get shot in the newly arranged and out of tape shoulder. The heat of the bullet graze stung and motherfucker did it hurt to get shot! You almost let Petra drop in the midair, and your cemented wrist help balance all the weight. The drop was painful, dirt rubbed your wound as the impact of the abrupt landing in your shocked your ankles.

“Look for Eld!” You shouted, but her face screamed: ‘I gotta help captain!’ But you silenced her, “Don’t bother, your captain is fine, Eld not so much!”

You heard the unforgettable, iconic ‘KENNY!’ of the younger Ackerman, a little assured that the plot is carrying on itself as it should.

Your vulnerable form states you should be an easy kill, as bullets fly here and there soon, and probably Eld is a goner too. That’s just a possibility. A very high possibility.

And you were right.

In a roof was Eld’s half face, his assailant pointing his gun at you. You couldn’t hear anything at that moment, things played slower that it normally should that the bullet’s trajectory was slower than usual. You managed to dodge, tackling the guy down the roof as you hook your gear to move from place to place, looking for Petra.

“Follow me!” You screamed at her, and you realized what was very wrong, but pushed it aside for now, dreading the conclusion that presented itself at every Kenny’s squad’s back.

You both took the long route, until you come near your cart, and you set up the remake of your shrapnel, the paper fuse litted. Yes, you _might_ kill people this time. But you’ve taken precautions as to not go there. And to be honest, you’re quite apathetic that you might blind or itch a few.

“W-What are you doing?!” Said Jean, his nerves made him tremble that he might pull the trigger off of his rifle.

“Why’d it come to this?!” He was still hesitating. Petra took the gun from him, guarding the cart as well as she can, while Jean succumbed at the thought that you he might have to kill people.

“Jean,” you said, aiming the shrapnel that now housed gunpowder and variety of dried powdered, poisonous, itchy, temporarily blinding plants that will present itself like a firework display in array of colors. Hopefully, it’ll cut the chasers half if not all. “choose the lesser evil that you’ll regret the least.”

What, did you say might kill? Can’t hear you over the vegan fireworks, motherfuckers.

“MIKASA! MICHE! LEVI! OUT OF THE WAY!”

**BOOM!**

The most of the pursuers stopped, either by itch or by blindness, you don’t care. At least you won’t be going to sleep with the thought that you’ll be responsible with taking someone else’s life especially when there’s someone waiting for them at home.

A woman made it in the cart, Petra resisted, almost successful, the taller, grown woman kicked her down, her foot dangled off the cart. Jean took the rifle, hesitating.

“Don’t move!” She disarmed him effortlessly, and _Petra, not Armin_ , caught the gun and pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! 
> 
> Your boy not having luck today. Internet’s down or slow due to maintenance and that’s nationwide! That runs until 30th, but I PROMISE to update as much as I can. 
> 
> This story is going to to finished, no matter what. 
> 
> So even if I want to update faster, it really depends on the crappy internet connection we have at home. Urgh.


	18. The Butterfly Effect

You never liked having a fever.   
In fact, no one wants that hyper-temperature because you can't think of anything since your head's fried, unless it's a ticket out of school.

The infection contracted through the gunshot wound, made you almost delirious. Brain foggy, probably your eyes have no focus. The pain was the only reminder to keep yourself functioning. Antibiotics at your old house, Sasha told you to strip, when Petra, who was wailing outside approached your aide, and insisted to let her take it from there. Lucidity back, it was curious she approached you instead of her injured captain; her hands gentle in assisting you to strip to your camisole, in contrast to the throbbing, searing pain of your wound.

"Thank you. I owe you twice now."

"No one's counting." You know she was either thinking about Eld or the fact that she killed someone today.

"I-" she choked, blob of tears coming from her already swollen features. Everyone was listening. Jean was still out of it, while Sasha did her best to keep her hands moving while she listened.

"I thought I couldn't do it...my father would-" Sob. "dad would never be proud to know her daughter's a murderer now..." she looked at you, and although you wanted to ruffle her hair or offer a half hug, both your arms were totally busted. "Petra-"

"Accept _who_ you've become, Petra." Levi said, his back turned from both of you, and even if you wanted to comfort the lady with less harsh words, hearing the cold, plain sequence of thought was probably more comforting than coaxing _._ "If your hands are still clean, Jean probably wouldn't be here right now."

"You were able to pull the trigger, because a comrade was about to die. You knew what're at stake and your quick thinking saved us all by getting your hands dirty." He gave her his tea. "And I am grateful."

You didn't dare speak. She bit her sobs to silence them, but tears still streaming like free water down her face. Choosing the lesser evil. But what is evil and what is good? Is it evil when you do something that benefits you but deprives others? Is it evil to do something in tune with your own conscience, but contradictory to another's? You didn't know. In fact, Levi himself didn't too.

But today, your words might have also convinced Petra in pulling the trigger. That's why she cried to you, and that's why she specifically talked to you about her conscience. Are you responsible for this? Either way, Armin should've took Petra's place, and Petra should've been long dead...

Your intervention was changing the story, and you didn't like it one bit.

It means you can't predict things and measure a counterattack. It means less chances of survival. It probably meant certain death for you. Or probably, busting both your hands was the way of the timeline to keep you from intervening with _their_ story. A warning. You've gotten too involved, and somewhere along the line, maybe you should stop playing like a real part of it.

_You're an outsider, F/N. You forgot that._

"Maybe your dad'll look at what you've saved instead of what you've done to do it, Petra." You instead bumped your head against hers, to keep her senses awake. That was as far as you're willing to go. She felt your intense rise of body temperature. "F/N-"

And everything just faded from there.

* * *

Miche was the lookout.

You woke up some time later, the fever still on the rise. They've cleaned up the blood from the graze, at least you wouldn't die from blood loss, but you might die by a mere infection if this goes on. They've patched the wound, the ointments you've always carried around for everyone to share almost out. You rose from the makeshift bed in the stables, your head a little clearer. See? They're still children, and you can't help but smile at the sight.

Armin and Mikasa leaning against each other;  
Sasha, who was probably the guard prior Miche gnawed her teeth;   
Beside her were Connie and Jean.

Miche was standing in the a nearby tree, sniffing for any signs of danger.   
Petra and Levi? You could have a guess but the image is not pretty in your head.

"Hey." You approached the man, snuggling the blanket closer to keep the warmth trapped. He looked at you, a smile in his eyes glinted in the near break of dawn.

"I haven't told you my thanks, saving me from that abnormal."

"That was just a dumb luck."

"It wasn't, was it?" He may interposed it as a question, but the answer was so apparent in his eyes. He kept silent for a long time about this, and probably he chose to because if you actually meant harm or just let the story flow and let everyone die, then maybe they would've retaliated or kept you in prison, torture you until they get what they want. But since you chose to do something of what you know, they let you make the call on what you thought was right. Maybe meddling with the timeline wasn't the best solution you have.

But at least you know this: you're doing the _right_ thing this time.

"Will you tell people? Erwin? Hange?"

"You're doing us a favor, and I don't see a reason why I need to tell someone else and send you to torture."

"Aren't you a bit curious as to how I know?"

"I am, but you might have a good reason why you keep things to yourself. Nanaba was the same."

"I see. Thanks." You snuggled the blanket closer, the darkest hour sets in.

"Levi knows too, doesn't he?" You showed him your cemented wrist. That smug look.

"Been working with him for years. He's not a bad guy."

"Hm." He shifted his stance, lookout rotation probably needed to change. You both turned around, Petra and Levi were too, out from the woods, looking at the two of you.

* * *

You felt caught red handed, and there's no reason for that. Petra too, was surprised; her mouth agape, her eyebrows arched higher like she was not supposed to be seen with him. Miche's leg began to stride down the slope, a smirk in his bearded features highlighted by the sunrise. He patted your head, and continued to stroll down to wake up Armin et. al.

You wanted to escape from the tension, but why does it feel like they owe you an explanation on whatever they're into the night in the woods? While everyone's asleep, did they do something that they didn't want to be bothered while doing it? But Levi said they weren't a thing. Did that change? Maybe he's lying? No, he's not that type of man, is he?

Why do you care? This's for the best. Rivertra fans should thank you for this.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, your lips pursed in an awkward smile, as you staggered to stroll down. You focused your attention to the slope, since you can't look them in the eyes. Maybe you felt shy about the discovery of their escapades in the woods. After all you've never had that. That was it. You'll probably try out that dating thing once you're back; a nice change of pace. It's normal. Levi and Petra are healthy and healthy people have urges. You've read in psychology before that when their flight or fight mode is triggered by a dangerous situation, humans have that tendency to preserve their specie, resulting to mating. See? Science. Academic. Cold.

It's the cold that's probably stinging your chest, or maybe the pain in your shoulder got redirected. Maybe it's the fever. It's not jealousy or betrayal or anger, because that would imply something else. Something you're not allowed to feel in this world.

"F/N-" Petra said, and you stopped walking too abruptly than a normal, platonic person would. That pursed smile didn't reach your eyes, wide eyed and anticipating of what? An explanation? You didn't deserve one. But if she insists...

"Yeah?" You said, chirpier than normal.

"How do you feel? Do you think you can ride a horse?" She said, feeling your forehead.

"Totally." You said, and you suck at acting normal, the nodding looked fake. "Mm-hmm." You clutched the blanket that trailed below, a good distraction to Levi's glare behind Petra.

"But you still have a fever."

"I can keep going."

"Petra," Levi said, putting his hand on her shoulder, "you can go wake the brats up. We're heading soon." He turned to you, taking his time to get closer that you can smell the cool herbal eucalyptus in him due to the ointment all of you shared. You gulped, the breaths came uneven and shallow.

"You're out of commission. Take off the gear and take the horse. Petra'll be with you. Hide somewhere for a while."

"Sir, are you saying you don't need my services anymore?"

"I'm saying you should take a breather. By the way you are, you're a shooting target."

"But-"

"Take a rest. Your arms're busted. Well, half of it is my fault. It'll leave a bad taste if you die by humans, that would be disappointing."

"So you still want me to get killed sir?"

"What I'm saying is Hange might need you and your weird inventions."

"I don't get where this conversation is going sir."

"Damn it, F/N." His eyebrows furrowed, his arms crossed. "I'm saying you've done a job well done saving Petra and us in the ambush. We'll take it from here. Although," He walked closer, the uneven breaths and sweaty palms stopped.

"will there be anymore... deaths I need to look out for?" Hange will lose an eye, but not dead.

"None in the Survey corps sir." That should do it prepare him for his uncle's death. His eyes traced the bloodied bandage in your shoulder.

"Put some liquor in it, replace the bandage every so often. Might sting a little. Don't act so reckless again, got it?" He ruffled your hair, mixed signals flying everywhere.

"Y-Yes Sir."

His small, thin hand was heavy.   
A little rough.

He left you in a daze, thinking that his head pats might be the best and the most satisfying gratitude you've ever received in your goddamn life. You traced where his hand had been, his retracting, authoritative figure basked in the fresh sunlight. Funny, the stinging in your chest was gone and warmth took over.

This was just respect to the man. Nothing more, right?

* * *

You woke up in a your home at the outskirts of wall Maria. The antibiotic taking effect, the fever's down, and now the appetite was setting in. You wanted warm soup for today, but the military ration was all you have so have in your knapsack. Your gear had been confiscated. Banned from using it because the captain said you might try 'some funny business'. Then the head part in replayed to you.

And then his escapade with Petra in the middle of the night.

You sighed, unwrapping the ration and downing it with water. The thoughts on the ambush playing in your head...

The books said the gear of the interior police was made as if it's sole purpose of creation was to kill Survey corps members. But who did it? Who did the improvement in the books? The design you gave the the military in exchange of your freedom to join the Survey corps was awfully similar to that prototype you made to Marco's, just that, the gas now rests at the back, attached to the back support. The one that the SC uses was the more comfortable version, the gas remained in the sides, only with regulators so it won't waste more gas than the user should. The question was in your mouth:

"Did I kill Eld with my invention?"

The breaths became panting, panic made you spew that military ration you just ate, along with the water that flowed in your nose. Staining your sheets with bile and vomit, you made your way to your bathroom. You've always been careful not to cause killing or to alter the main storyline of this world, given that you started off as a tourist, but now you've wanted to keep them alive because you saw how it changed their demeanor when they didn't lose the people they cared about. But never have you thought that now you're part of this.

You're not an outsider anymore, are you? After all, you're as much as a moving factor in this world. Probably the books never mentioned you, or it never intended to reveal you. And while you might not be able to change the accounts of what was written as true in the books, you might have a chance of do something other than trying to keep them alive.

This is not just a story you know and read anymore.  
This might be a different set of reality, on an ever expanding space.

And in this story, you, as much as anyone else, might also be an actor.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.
> 
> Reader’s wounds and broken bones may be a warning. You know when you clip the wings of a butterfly it’s just a goner? What she’s doing is def meddling with the story as we know it, but she now realizes that she might be a bigger part of it than she bargain for. 
> 
> While she tries to present a different outcome even if the accounts will beg to differ, the story was fighting her changes, that’s why the circumstances always aim in her arms and her hands. Creating by them is her strongest point. If it’s not functioning, she’s powerless. I guess Levi, even if he’s also one of the reason why her arms are broken, probably realized this, (after all, he’s always looking/glaring at her) and tried to give her a break, a well deserved one. :) 
> 
> Also, Petra pulling the trigger instead of Armin. Armin has always been that silent but very deadly type. Remember he was rallying the cart, and there were alot of people behind. He didn’t need to intervene. Petra’s a fighter, a lady honed by war, so I tried to cut him some slack and made the older female do the job for him. 
> 
> But it doesn’t mean Armin isn’t as calculating as ever.


	19. Momentary Surrender

"F/N?" A muffled calling from your doorstep and the screech from the hinges of your door.

"Petra?" You called back, the voice familiar to you.

"Captain told me to look after you." She made herself at home. Realizing this, she stopped her intrusion, looking shyly at you for permission. "May I..?"

"Yeah, make yourself at home." Your voice a little nasal as you sniff the last of the military ration that flowed out of your nose. You were eyeing the potatoes and carrots she probably got from her father. You pondered if she told her father yet, or if she intended to tell him at all. "Thank you for bringing me here. You didn't need to go back?"

"No, captain told me to take care of you."

"Well-" you cleared your throat, "that would be nice but I'll take it from here."

"I want to repay you for saving my life, twice too. And that recipe you gave me-"

"Nice gesture, but you really should go and do what you have to do." You exhaled quite deeply, leaning in the doorframe. "You don't want to go home and stay with your dad, do you?" You were getting antsy, the sudden realization that you might've killed someone passed by your memory. Probably this wasn't you being antsy because you didn't like the company of anyone today. Maybe this was _guilt_ eating you because you might've killed her team member. It wasn't your fault was it? You didn't know. In fact, in the books, he should've been long dead— he died because he was suppose to die, but what if he _can_ live? No, this can't be your fault. You just wanted to help, you just wanted to improve their performance in the battlefield. You just wanted to heighten their chances of survival out there!

You didn't sign up to save everyone, you knew that, but you _did_ sign up _not to cause_ death on _anyone_.

There's a difference.

Petra had that hurt painted in her face, her form frozen along with that little sack of vegetable in her hands. "Y-Yeah, maybe I should do that."

"Wait." You said. The crawling of Rod Reiss shook the ground. It told you the time of how much you were asleep, and it meant she was probably looking out for you since yesterday.

"You can stay here." You said while you staggered to get to the wooden, smooth floorboard near your _irori_. A cold kettle sat in the sunken hearth, she took out the vegetables and water at your kitchen. "I'm sorry, I didn't have to do say that."

"It's fine. If I didn't do it, Jean and probably also Armin and you are dead by now."

"Captain's words to live by?"

"No," she chuckled, " _your_ words. I chose the lesser evil and the least I'll regret. The woman I..."

"Shot." You continued for her.

"Yes, that... she had a father waiting for her." The resemblance of their situation was unexpected. 

"And you thought that if it was your father to receive the news, you didn't like it."

"No one would."

"No one would." You turned to her, the next words were the things you wanted to say to yourself to justify Eld's death. "But this is war Petra. A coup. Somewhere, someone's gonna die. No one knew what's going to happen _this far._ Even I can't predict it." You gulped. Anger rising from your chest.

_Even_ _I didn't know._

"She hesitated didn't she? She didn't want to kill as much as you do. You, her— all of us don't want to. But if you didn't pull that trigger not only will we be dead but it'll be your dad getting the news instead of hers."

"But it didn't have to be like this! We gave our hearts to humanity's survival, we wanted to give us future, not—" she sobbed "not kill humans."

"The people behind this war doesn't give a flicker of fuck about you or your humanity bullshit. The Survey's out to uncover all of that, for humanity's advancement." You tried to convince her, your words sounded so true in your ears. "The side you're on on this war is challenging the system of oppression and monopoly you've come to normalize."

You stood, facing her completely.   
Clarity gleaming in her eyes.   
Determination at her pursed lips.

"Petra, it's not wrong to be greedy to _just_ stay alive."

You didn't know how you got so close to her, but her eyes were so intent at looking at you.

"Do you understand?"

She hugged you, and to your surprise, you didn't flinch. She somehow reminded you of Arianne. Fun, sassy, borderline bitchy, ballsy.

But _very_ kind.

"I know why the captain likes you now."

"What?" She didn't relinquish the hug. You felt weirded out. _The captain likes me_ _— w_ _haaaaaaaat? "_ I'm not following—"

"Oh stop." She said, sighing at the too long, unsolicited yet well received hug. "He likes you. Why do you think he always stares at you? You're not even in sight but he'll turn his neck just to look at you from the kitchen window, he did that thing while you fix the gears, he always yanks you far when you're _too_ near with other men... he ruffled your hair! He's never done that to me!" You tried to prevent your facial muscle from smiling like Dina's titan that you had to grit your molars. The abdominal muscles tightened, you swallowed that spit building behind your tongue.

"Nah, he probably thinks of me like, I dunno, like some sort of weirdo or something. He broke my wrist you know." Some facts she said, some an erroneous calculation on her part. He yanked you far because he noticed how uncomfortable you were. But then again, why would he do that? Or why was he observing your discomfort? Hmm, penny for thoughts.

The head patting occurs only if he already warmed up to someone. To Isabel, Eren and Mikasa. But you? You've known each other for hardly _two_ _months_ , that can't be right!

_This is bullshit. It's just an unfounded observation of an over analyzer. Nothing's there!_

"He's... awkward and a little rough around the edges but he's kind. At all times, he means well." She gave back your space. Her lips were pursed to a smile, a shrug in her expression, but you knew her seeming indifference was a façade.

"Um, you shouldn't be telling me this."

"Why? Because I have a crush on the captain? He knows... I think."

"So you two should stick together!" You said, animately throwing your hands on the air. _Fuck, that hurt._

"F/N, you can't force that on him if he doesn't like it. The captain would probably want to decide that for himself."

"But you like him, so pursue him, make him like you back!"

"That would just end badly." She threw her head backwards, her eyes on your ceiling. "If there's something I learned about him, if he wanted something, he's not going to stop until he gets it."

"And how did that turned out?"

"We're special ops, we usually get things done if it's to pave a way for a district to another district, or mark human territory." She went back to looking at you. Sighing at your thin, broken form.

"Hm," and you remembered that they too, will succeed the coup, crowning Historia as queen. They soon will make progress inside the walls. In the books, he wanted to and was determined to kill Zeke. Indeed, if he wanted something, be it change, he will do _anything_ to get it.

But you? Psh. He _had_ to be with Petra. Not you.   
But why can't you stop being happy? _What the fuck is wrong with you?_

"But Petra? You had you know..." you didn't know how to play it safer. "um, did it with Levi before I left, I mean, you walked out from the woods, he was not in his office that night you brought papers..." you shrugged in embarrassment.

"You had um, good nights with him, right?" She blushed at your assumptions. And then she laughed.

She looked beautiful. A maiden with a heart of a warrior.

"No!" She exclaimed, playfully smacking your shoulder. You flinched that she apologized right after. "That time he saw me making cairn for Eld." Her features softened, and that guilt forgotten was building once again. "He helped me pile the stones and told me to take care of you."

You nodded and 'Oh'ed at the realization. The transition from guilt to giddiness then to guilt once again. "I'm sorry about Eld." You couldn't look at her in the eyes.

"It's not your fault you couldn't get to him. I didn't even know what was happening until you scoop me from that alley.... and you saved him too, that expedition. We're sorry to doubt you."

"You were trying to protect the corps."

"No, actually that..." she trailed off, potatoes and carrots forgotten in the cemented sink. "I saw how comfortable captain was with you even though he just met you." You let him continue, the kettle was probably hot enough to dig to make a cup of hot water and mountain tea. You signaled her to take the cups, and let the two of you sit around the _irori._ You grabbed the lightweight muslin cloth, hopefully the tea you brought in the market before your last visit was still consumable.

"It took awhile for him to warm up that I can approach him but there's something unreciprocated, between us— everyone sees that. But you? He was comfortable enough to have skin contact while you fixed his gear. He talked to you like a long time friend— you get where I'm going with this right?"

"You wanted me gone because I was a threat to captain manlet—" you pursed your lips, "Levi, and you."

She laughed at the nickname, her hands holding her stomach as if to stop the spasm of the muscles. It made you laugh too. For sometime, you've always thought that Petra was like the lovestruck, ever loyal guard dog to Levi, blinded by the unfaltering loyalty to mask the infatuation she had for the man half her age. But this woman was more than the center of hate to the usual LevixOC or Levixreader stories (Yes, you know those things exist, and you're not sorry you've read some too), and the heroine of the tragic love story for Rivetra.

She's a woman who made her decision to be a soldier at a very young age, trained for years to be the best of who she can be and she followed someone whom she thought had the same goal in mind: Humanity's survival, and somewhere along the way, she fell in love.

Why? Is there a reason for that? _Should_ there be a reason for that? You asked yourself.

"I like the captain. I _love_ him. But I can't waste my time if he doesn't give it back." Her smile was grouchy, pouty. "If you just didn't come here I would've married the man after all of this is over." 

"You do that." You smiled back, her intentions weren't taken as ill. "I'll go back home when that happens."

"You mean you'll leave us? Leave him?"

"I don't belong here." You looked at her in the eyes, the sadness of the truth and the inevitable conclusion that no matter how much you get attached to someone or to everyone in this place, you'll eventually have to leave. 

It hurt.

"How about Levi? Don't you feel the same?"

"That's..." you pondered at the right words. "we've only met and actually talked to him since I joined the corps. That was... hardly 2 months. You can't tell that you like the person if you've only been talking to them for less than 2 months, Petra." She served you the tea, the ground shook due to Rod Reiss' rampage near the Orvud district. She was panicking, while you stayed calm, slowly drinking the tea with the dislocated, grazed shoulder.

"R-Really? Is that how it was in your world?" She looked around, thinking if she should grab the vegetables and leave. "T-Then how long will it take? Are the people in your world untrustworthy?" You pondered about the similarities of her questions to Levi's childhood situation. The people around him was the melting pot of danger and cheats, and if there was something that you would predict to be true, it was that, he will never give his trust just to anyone, unless they've proven their intentions to him.

That included his heart. Not ever in this time of war and uncertainty. The story _is_ not even over yet.

"I can't answer that question. Never been to that type of situation." You watched her pour you the tea, from your cup, to hers. "But I know trusting the wrong person doesn't come cheap. The thing is, no one knows who has good intentions for you to consider them right. And even if their intentions are good, if it doesn't translate to actions you want to see, or it just _can't_ be—"

"Then stay! Let him prove it to you. After all this, you can take your time." She was arguing like she, someone who loved the captain was supporting a seemingly stranger she just got to know for 2 months. And you haven't even told her you like captain piss off yet. But do you? Too early to tell. A lot more in your plate before any romance set in. Why the assumption? Why the support? If this was your world, rare are people who would support and watch their subject of affection be taken by another. You've seen couple of scandalous fights in your university because they wanted the same man or woman, or some divorce case on Youtube because of some drunken, stupid one night stand.

"Let's just..." you sipped you tea, the ground shook the hardest, a cue that Historia already gave the final blow.

"...let nature takes its course. See how it goes."

"Mm yes, and your tea is smokey."

"It's cheap, beggars can't be picky, Petra." She looked around your humble space, a few things here and there. Some familiar, some foreign to her.

"You have a nice home. It might've cost some fortune." It did. Some of your inventions and some of your stuff prior training corps you had to sell to merchants aside from the day and night jobs. "We should go soon. The shaking's not stopping."

"Nah." the shaking of the ground stopped completely, signaling that one of the many nightmares was over. You both sipped your tea.

"It's fine."

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! Did you think reader will die? Nah, she said so before. She’ll save anyone she can but not at the cost of her own life. Although, yeah, she’s reckless. 
> 
> Too reckless. 
> 
> What do you think of this chapter? Do you think Petra was right? Because you know, it’s an observation of a 19 yo, die hard fan of the Captain Ackermann. But who knows, maybe she observed right? No? Not convinced? 
> 
> Thank you for sticking this far! :) See you next chapter!


	20. His Ways

Wall Rose had leaves in different colors as banners and flaglets.

With the will-be crowned Queen Historia of the Paradis, you wondered if you can swipe food from all the commotion going in the populous parts of the walls. Potatoes and carrots that Petra brought last time she visited were tiring already— you realized you could grill the carrots while you boil the water above your _irori_. Aside from that, every menial chore: dusting, prepping food, eating, shitting, bathing and even changing your clothes was torture for both of your arms.

You stared at the miniature portal Arianne gave you and wondered what could possibly be done to make the homecoming work. Your theories revolved on a wormhole or some galactic interference that somehow messed up your calculation of your location departure. If that's the case then you can't come back unless you know the cause of interference. Or maybe Arianne's portal needed some boost to travel longer. Or maybe it was your spirit guide telling you to believe Petra's words and try it with Captain piss off and see how it goes.

"Yeah right," but the heat in your cheeks were suggesting otherwise. You sang to distract yourself.

It's just the rumor effect; you're inexperienced. If someone told you that someone else liked you, you would kind of get flattered and curious too, right? Then you mix flattery and curiosity to possible love and romance. So rampant with pressured couples. No big deal.

You nibbled at the leftover grilled carrots you took from the wooden plate, deciding to unlock the old box you kept hidden in the kitchen floorboard. You twisted the combination of the lock, careful not to hurt your tender fingers, and out with the gold coins you had, to buy some stuff that goes well with potatoes. Probably butter, if there was butter. Or cheese.

A knock on the door.

Then three more.

You got your cutter under your bed, waiting whoever the fuck was on the other side to speak.

"It's me." The voice was familiar. _What fuc—_

"F/N!" Oh, it's Jean. A sigh of relief. It's just not him, thank goodness. You would freak out!

"We brought you some potatoes!" You couldn't help but giggle that it was Sasha.

You opened your _home_. They weren't looking at your face; they were looking at your... chest.

"Is that what they wear at your world?" Oh, they were looking at the baggy, old graphic tee. You looked down at the lame design, the very reason why you only wear such things when alone.

Well, not so alone now, _are_ you?

"Yeah, come in." You opened the door wider, curious at the sudden visit. They should be preparing for Historia's coronation, or should that be in the care of the Military Police, you're not sure. Sudden as it may, the visit made you happy; Even Nifa was present along with Petra.

"We'll have potatoes today!" Sasha exclaimed.

"Actually," you started, looking at all their faces except for one. Petra's face was daring you, and if Nifa caught up, you didn't know. You were determined not to look at your will-be former colleagues.

Yes, you will be quitting the Survey corps, effective immediately, after Historia's coronation.

"I want to have more flavor other than potatoes today." They were stunned; and everyone looked at their captain. You were not catching up, did you say something offensive? You showed them a gold coin, enough to buy at least five eggs and a small packet of salt. "Come with?" You asked them, they were still sporting terrified faces. "Um, did I say something wrong..?" _Maybe it was his idea to visit...? Nah._

"You brats stay here. Petra, Jean, you man the place." Levi said, now turning back at you, a silent command or a _suggestion_ that you should be changing into more Eldian-appropriate clothes. He was inviting himself to help you with the errand, and you wondered if Petra said something to the guy. Can't be. She doesn't do that, does she? A few minutes in, the members of the Survey corps gathered around the _irori_ , mountain tea served to them, and some more military rations no one took even a nibble. You left Armin with a 2019 encyclopedia that everyone gathered around, as you watched him flip the pages, and every time was an amazement or just salivating curiosity given their age, and amidst of it all was the gleaming hope in their eyes. They can't read the words of your world but there were enough pictures to keep them entertained.

You committed this picture to your memory.

"Ready?" He merely looked at you. Him in his glorious brown Survey coat, the weather getting chilly. It's probably nearing the autumn breeze, or you just wanted to sound cryptic.

"You should wear another layer."

"I think I can survive this much sir."

Not you can't.

You shared his horse because the simple chore of guiding the reins was a difficult thing to do. And when was the last time this happened? Yes, when he helped you put up with Miche. At least this time, you smelled better. Not that you should be concerned about it, but his warmth underneath all that coat can't seep out that you had to be thick skinned to lean more against his back.

He didn't complain in the first try. So you leaned more comfortably.

"What, cold?" his voice boomed above you that it made you jerk in surprise. Your head collided against his chin making him close his jaw, his lip bled resulting from the sudden puncture by his teeth. If this was Oluo, it would've been his tongue, but for Levi, for some unknown force in this planet, had to bite his thin, _thin_ lip.

You gasped as you straightened up. The force must've been too harsh that you heard his signature _tch_ immediately after.Youturned around, your hair whipping him in the face; momentarily blinding him with it.

He had to stop the horse. His mouth and his cheeks must be filled with your strands, and he's probably so pissed right now. _Oh god, he can't break any more of my arms, can he?_ _Who knows, he might be in for neck breaking right now._

_Just turn around and ask the man, F/N!_

You heard him spew your strands away, his fingers removing them from his line of sight. You turned around, your free hand fumbled in your skirt pocket, fishing for that unused handkerchief, as you offered the same. "I'm sorry sir." You said, his lip a little redder by the stain of his own blood. He waved your handkerchief off, but gave you a thick lace of yellow silk. You remembered seeing one of these in one of Flegel's shops, and you heard it was popular among the _ladies_ within the walls.

It was simple.   
A little pricey.

"Tie your hair, it doesn't smell shitty but I can't see if it's in the way."

You took it; the yellow string you've inadvertently found and used as makeshift ponytail since the gear fitting served its purpose anyway.

"Thank you sir. But I..." you looked at your arms. You heard his mannerism _tch_ and he began combing your hair with his thin, calloused fingers.

"Turn around," He said.  
"and _stay_ still." He _almost_ whispered.

The strength in his every stroke was firm that it felt nice to your scalp. He tugged your hair, a little _too_ rough, and the ribbon grouped them together.

He did his best. The pony tail's a little crooked but it was polished. Not a single hair curved or deviated from the bind.

"Lean, it's getting colder. " He said, arms almost formed to an embrace to reach the reins. You heard his expression of annoyance, and the horse continued its gentle travel; it walked the two of you in the nearest market.

You leaned.

* * *

He watched you bargain with every stall; 5 eggs and a thumb of butter and cheese for a gold coin, you reminded yourself to make Armin or Jean take the spinach growing just outside your house and make an omelette. The lemon and sugar were given to you for free. So he was popular in a good light in the surface, the successful coup flowered Survey Corps' name, and soon, they'll have more recruits.

Then they'll all die in the taking of Shiganshina, save for Floch.

How? By the _simple_ act of throwing stones.

_Oh my god, Erwin's next..._

You sighed, the planning was not going well. You can't bribe the beast this time, you can't monkey around 3DMG and hope you don't get shot by stones, and you can't scoop everyone on time. Or at least Erwin.

If you make Erwin take the serum instead of Armin, what would've happened?

Maybe if Erwin would know earlier what needed to be known in Eren's basement, maybe they could plan better this time, but time was of essence. It's just a matter of time before the shifters turn in again and put a hole in the wall, and further retreat Eldians in Sina. It's not unlikely that they too, will make a hole in Sina and leave everyone defenseless, pee and shit their cowardice and will to live until they have nothing to go on but just accept that that was life for all of them.

For all of you. You're part of this now.

Eren's titan alone won't be able to handle three of them, even with the Ackermans around it's just impossible. It's just an overwhelming defeat.

Zeke's plan would materialize.  
Eldian race won't survive.  
And they'll be hunted and persecuted all their lives.  
Until the end of their lives.  
Until there's nowhere to go.  
Until the only solution was to make a pact to the devil. _Like Eren's..?_

"Like the founder Ymir, huh?"

"What?"

"What?" You snapped back to your thoughts, Levi taking the goods. He looked at you, asking by a glance whatever was running in your head.

"N-Nothing."

You roamed a little, a few kiosk owners greeted the captain and asked if you were the 'lucky girl'. Some comments came a bit harsh, like: 'No good settling cozy with a soldier like him!' You felt obliged to defend the profession given that there's no official memo yet of your dismissal, but Levi waved them off by a rude 'None of your business.' Or 'Get out of the way.' Or 'Tch, running your mouth like swines.'

"Sir," you said, gently tugging at his cloak. "Let's go. We got what we need so um," you tucked that loose hair, "we should go back home."

* * *

"Heard you're quitting soldier. You got the memo?" The horse was unbearably slow, something about the rocking of the horse and his warmth in your back made your insides mellow. His voice wasn't helping either!

"Yeah," you managed in a single escape of breath, the teasing at the market got you. The remark of one male Garrison soldier 'Make some strong children to protect the walls, captain Levi!' didn't help either.

"Why? Can't handle some broken bones?"

"I'm not soldier material Sir. I'll be dead before I can go home."

"So you still wanna home?" You remembered your talk that one night in the stun grenade test run, telling him you're undecided if the plan proceeds as planned. And to be honest, the reason you wanted to go home was also the reason you wanted to stay. You decided not to open another word.

The horse stopped.

His warmth pressed against your back.  
But his presence, _not once_ , made you panic and remember things you would rather forget.

"That, I haven't decided yet." You started, overlooking at the lower elevation of civilization. The air was fresher where you built your home for your entire stay in this world, and to be _honest_...

"I'm quitting because I think I'll do you more of a favor if I wasn't a soldier. After all, the contract I made with the past government is over, I can revert back to being a civilian again."

"What do you plan on doing this time? You look like you already decided."

"Yes, but I still don't know how to do it."

"Do what?"

You didn't respond for a couple more seconds. "Erwin agreed to my proposal—"

"I know that part already, get to the point."

"Erwin— he answered the same." You turned to him, his eyes so unreadable. Cold. Boring. _Sad._

And so were yours that you didn't bother to hide now.

"What is? Don't sound creepy now."

"I tried to tell him, that he _might_ die in the next expedition, but he said he wanted to know it himself." You sobbed a laugh. "Silly me, I thought I could do something about it, change the outcome, just let the guy live..." his eyes getting wider and wider, the realization that no matter how much you or him tried to convince Erwin, his decision stood firm and unyielding. No matter how many bones Levi breaks, Erwin will crawl just to fulfill his lifetime wish. His commander's wish that Levi will know soon.

The very reason he joined the Survey corps.  
And the very reason why you're still alive today.

Knowledge.

"What are you saying?"

"I don't think I can save _anyone_ this time." 

* * *

"F/N." Mikasa said, looking at your loose T shirt you covered with a thick knit sweater. You didn't wear military clothes anymore. Historia now crowned as the Queen, and the last time you wore it was when you attended history being made when a proud queen of four feet punched humanity's strongest that stood a little taller than her and you. It was also the first time you saw him smile so sincerely.

Something punched your chest just thinking about it.

Mikasa poked you with peeled apples you didn't know accompanied you long enough to make it brown on the edge. Your focus away from the Paradis' map and some other books of your own, you looked at her, a piece of apple in her hand as you smiled and gratefully bite it off of her. "The captain told me to fetch the plate if you're done eating but you haven't even touched it. It's better if you don't waste food, it's scarce as it is." You tucked that loose hair that escaped from the yellow ribbon.

"Sorry." You pursed your lip, her good intentions curved it to a smile. "I'll eat it." You were about to sip your coffee, but you received another scolding. "Captain said you should drink water now, not coffee. He said you've drank 4 cups in a row now." She gave you a bloated waterskin , and it surprised you how warm it was.

"Captain told me to give this to you."

"Hange did? Weird." You faked a frown. "She never did that."

"No, it's not Captain Hange."

"Huh," you clicked you tongue, taking the last apple on the plate. "I'll tell Miche my thanks. Thank you, Mikasa." You swallowed the last of its juiciness.

"My center of command is not Captain Miche, F/N." She smiled ever so gently, as she took the plate, and went away.

The night work was done, and Levi offered again to take you home. 

* * *

The new agreement with the Survey that Erwin agreed on the following terms:

Every invention on cuisine, utilities and their improvements _only_ will be exclusively used by the Survey Corps within 1 year.

After a year has lapsed, can it be used by the other branches of the military. This was Levi's idea. He probably thought it was fun if the other branches of the military didn't have a taste of the good stuff until the Survey ran it dry. Hmmm, vengeful.

Arsenals, as well as scientific advancements shall be shared to other military departments after 6 months. This you wanted to bargain for a year because the Interior Police's gear turned out to be a contraband came from the gear you made for Marco...

That was the very reason you quit the Survey corps. You didn't want to be the reason someone gets killed again. Not by your inventions and mods. Eld's death was enough to justify that decision. For as long as the military had their control over you, all other inventions and information will have to be disclosed.

You're a merchant now; a _civilian_.

All that you asked from Erwin were:   
Access to information and facilities and;  
The option to join the expeditions and activities, without the burden of being a soldier.

You've made some proposals with Historia as well.

Armin knocked your concentration out by the wind with the high pitch thud of the saucer plate against the wooden table. Your workspace was under a tree on an open field, far from the training of the squad members. It was a chilly morning this time alright, your sweaters now accompanied with scarves.

"Um," you peered at him while you painstakingly held a pencil and tried to engineer a draft to bait the titans...in the southern gate of Trost district...? What?

Why did your work look like...?

Wasn't it that Hange suppose to make this draft? She invented executioner from hell... right?

_What is happening?_

"F/N?" Armin said, concerned.

And then his voice rang and vibrated in your ears...

Echoed.  
Muffled.  
Faded. 

* * *

You woke up in a couch you were familiar with, a blanket that smelled like... your home in your world covered you. Boots taken off, you lotused your legs, sitting up at the realization that you've been asleep for more than you should. But still, you took your time to straighten your thoughts. The wound from the gunshot throbbed, you fumbled to put the boot laces, careful not to let the leather touch your tender skin still devoid of nails. Your thick set of drafts safely rolled on Levi's table, beside it was a cloche.

You took a peek.

"Huh," you didn't want to sound so elated— you took the route not to sound elated and tried to play it cool even if your toes inside your boots were popping by the way they curled in.

Sticky rice with minced dried fruits and walnuts. _Walnuts._ Beside it was a pot and a cup of now cold black tea.

How did he know you like walnuts— _Oh._

It's been nagging at the back of your head for the past 4 weeks now...

There was this constant extension of assistance anywhere you go...

Someone from his squad had been looking out for you; be it Petra, Mikasa or Armin...

Then his squad's insistence of taking meals 2 times a day... in between were snacks of fruit that you knew costs an arm and a leg in the market kiosks...

Oluo's and Hange's jokes...

Then the frequent or even automatic agreement that he will be the one to take you home after a tiring day...

The knowing glances of the Privates...

Sometimes when you catch a minute with him he gives a quick tap in your shoulder or a brief ruffling of the hair...

The yellow ribbon...

The frequent, longer glares— stares when he's in your line of sight, or in your periphery...

"Oh my God." The smile you're trying to not become a grin. The uneven breaths of excitement coming in...

The door opened, "Good to know you're still alive—"

"Levi, are you.. perhaps, courting me?"

He closed the door and locked it.

"And if I am?" 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> If you would recall the previous chapter about the gear fitting of Miche and Erwin, and that Walnut ep in the interlude, yea, Levi was glaring— staring at Reader. :) 
> 
> I think this is how he will try to woo someone in their world..? He’s busy so he can’t always take care of you, and the reader is as busy, if not more, like the captain. 
> 
> Also, I think he will be very discerning and perceptive of what the reader needs, because she wanted to look tough that she forgets things— tunnel vision, if you may when she’s focused on something. I think the only type of care or affection the man ever received was, aside from his mother’s was his uncle’s act of giving him food, making sure he survived and not go hungry and die. And then there’s Isabel and Farlan. Just familial and brotherhood type of love. 
> 
> Romantic? Petra said “he’s rough around the edges...” 
> 
> There’s this headcanon that he is touch starved? Do you guys agree? They said so because when he was a baby, he was cuddly and reared by his mother. But his fondness of headpats and ruffles was not because he wanted some kind of skinship to receive love; it was to show his affection to the other person. I don’t know, I somehow believe this headcanon. 
> 
> Soooo, what do you guys think? They still have a month before the Shiganshina death march. 
> 
> Also, tell me if I will proceed with this story or should I put this on hold because it will spoil the season 4. This story extends there. So please, be warned. Speak now, or forever hold your peace guys. :) 
> 
> Thank you sooo much!


	21. Contradictions

_"Oh my God." The smile you're trying to not become a grin. The uneven breaths of excitement coming in..._

_The door opened._

_"Good to know you're still alive—"_

_"Levi, are you.. perhaps, courting me?"_

_He closed the door and locked it._

_"And if I am?"_

* * *

"No." You said, laughing at his gray answer. "No, no, you're not. You can't be." Maybe it was one of his shitty jokes. After all, he says them so dry you can't tell the... differen...ce...

"Oh you're serious?" You continued to look at him, smile fading and dreading every second he was not saying anything to confirm nor deny his response. "You're— you, you like me?"

He strode in his domain, eyeing the rectangle rice cake and cold tea. "You should eat, they said you passed out again."

Forget about the rice cake, wait, maybe you should eat it. Take a second to process everything in. He can't like you. He's not... real. Maybe he is— in a distant world in space, but this, this isn't right. You're bound to leave this place. You had a life back home. Friends, family, heck, even the government needed you back home. You can't possibly settle in a place where there's uncertainty when he's going to be killed or when _you_ _are_ going to be killed. Also, you _have_ to leave. If the story is not yet finished, what will happen to you? Or maybe in your world, it's done, you just haven't read it yet. There's just so much uncertainty that romance and love and _future is_ unlikely.

What, just live in the present? That's the anthem of every unstable, non-committal relationship you've ever read. You may have some quirks and unconventional ways, but if you're going to settle with someone, you prefer the traditional ways!

But why were you thinking about settling down? Nothing even started yet!

And what if... the present is all you'll have with him?

He kneeled, guiding your foot to your boots, his small but strong hands slightly massaging your calf. He laced them, and tied them neatly. The other foot went in next.

"Levi, I'm sorry but, you and I— we can't be." Somehow, the tying of the boot laces were taking longer. He wasn't saying anything, and you can't bear the silence of inevitable awkwardness in the four corners of his office. You thought you should say something more, and so you did.

"You like fancy things Levi, tea, cravats, tea cups, even your deal with Reeve's company screams fancy." You leveled your face with his, you sat on of the floor, back pressed against the foot of the couch, long skirt covering and ballooning like a snuggly blanket in your frame. "Look at me."

He did, boring, steel eyes now infested with impatience.

"What you _think_ you're feeling is not something... courtship appropriate. I'm the new girl with her otherworldly views and weird-ass inventions. Once I'm stale, you won't like me anymore. Okay?"

He pulled the laces too harshly, your attention went to your foot. "Are you done?" His eyes met yours.

"Didn't you hear a word of what I just said?"

"I stopped when you told me to look at you." And you realized how close, _too_ close you were against him. His eyes burning you, daring you to tell him more of why he can't do these sorts of things he had been doing consistently for the past month, because it seemed like he was prepared for this kind of talk. You? It's at the back of your head, you were comfortable with him even if he broke your wrist— there you said it, _kind_ of comfortable with him, but there's just so many things to consider why this thing between the two of you can't just do. You sighed, the closeness didn't bother you. In fact, for some weird reason, you're sure he won't do anything physically painful to you ever again.

Safe would have _been_ perfect. But his offer was risky.

"Why?" You scoffed "I mean, look at me. I'm not even hot—"

"Yeah, you're not."

"Exactly," a little disappointed, you were expecting he'll turn a little heart-eyed like how many romance books you've read. "I'm not you know exactly the cuddly typ—"

"On point."

"Damn it, yes, also, I'll leave, I might leave. What are you gonna do after that? Do we just live like everyday's the last time? We can't have plans for the future, even plan for next week! Do you have a vision of where this could possibly go?"

"I do."

"Well?" You said, frantic.

He gave you a fork with impaled piece of the simple rice cake, and you realized you were trembling; your expression must have been terrified that his eyes now spelled a little bit of concern. Little. _Too_ subtle unless your attention focuses on the littlest of details.

You took the fork, hesitant to take a bite, but you nibbled around it, picking the walnuts first before anything else. His lips began to form words.

"We need you around here. Are you still going to go, or not? Choose, either is fine."

"What?" You stopped eating, appetite retracted. Was he seriously telling you he's trying to woo you because you're useful? Disposable? You swallowed that walnut, disappointment radiating from you. And you thought you'd smitten the oh-so-handsome corporal of Paradis, you thought to yourself 'oh, I must be special that the Humanity's strongest Corporal Undercut wants me.'

Wrong, you naïve, naïve _girl_.

The disappointment and self confidence just flew out the window. Didn't he implied before? A hot titan date. Hint: HOT date. That's his preference and he just said you're not hot for him. Not naïve, not smart, _not_ _you_. He probably though he can tie you down by being heart-heart bullshit to him and enslave you with his cute, shitty words and toilet humor. Or even his curved dick. Maybe he's doing this because you're harder to control knowing you won't be following the chain of command in the military now.

He probably thought he can buy you cheap.

And it's probably not you who broke someone's heart today.

"You don't need to tell me to help you, that's in the contract. Until I decide not to, or I can finally go home, I'll help you."

_Because you can swear something inside you cracked a little._

"I'm grateful you're honoring the contract."

"That said, I don't need your fake ass degenerate crush as payment, Levi." You stood, the drafts rolled in your knapsack.

You removed the yellow ribbon, walked out of his office closing the door behind you.

Your pride licked the tear clean off your cheeks.

* * *

Your nails were almost grown now since the torture before you joined the Survey corps. It's been a week that you've been declining the food and the assistance his members offered you. His stares became more frequent; the yellow ribbon now replaced with another string you found in the kitchen. The batch of drafts were finished, and you were only waiting for the Queen to arrive. 

You just had to sing Jessie's song in Toy Story (When somebody loved me...) while the guitar accompanied your voice, grassy plains poking and itchy against your skirt. The girls listened to you, the little boys however, either ganged up on your guitar, or they literally wanted to try it. You said you'll teach them, and you did. The sound that came from it was initially muffled, given their inexperienced fingers. Eventually, they gave up and opted to listen instead.

In your periphery, he was watching you from an appreciable distance, Eren, Historia and Mikasa now heaving boxes, the Queen called you, and you waved back. The children gathered around her, leaving you and the notes of your guitar.

You continued to play, aware of the manlet coming to you, you stood, wiped the blades of grass and walked in the opposite direction. He was following you, _openly_ , and you thought he was as subtle as a thief in the market. He wouldn't do something scandalous in here will he?

Wait, why will he? Why are you still hung up with whatever he does? He probably has something to tell you that Erwin wanted to pass on. You saw Miche and his newly formed squad, Marlowe the bowl cut patriot joined him.

You hastened your steps, the walk turned into brisk and the brisk almost turned to an jog. "Your Majesty—"

"Stop that," Historia said, the warmth of Christa showing in her eyes. The manlet caught up, and deciding it was fine that you're not alone with him, Mikasa took Eren's load, while Eren took Historia's, freeing the Queen of her errands. "You wanted to talk about the..." she paid a glance on Levi, the secret between the two of you almost out. "sewage management yes?"

"Yes, Your Majesty—"

"Stop that!" She slapped your arm, sorry when you winced in pain. A child tugging your guitar, you played while talking to the queen.

"And the other one and the thing in the cave..."

"Oh that. You talked to the Factory city? I already approved that. Zackley and Sir Pyxis' backed it up too."

"Erwin too?"

"Yes." She said, calmly, her regal, authoritative air exuding a steam. You tensed in excitement. Your shoulders elevated, you couldn't take the grin away. Silly as it was, it excited you.

Ice burst stone, a potential source of energy.

The Factory city should be able to follow your blueprint and your prototype of a generator stuck and dusty in your house, with little instructions here and there...

Let there be light.   
And probably, let there be a way home.

Something inside tugged your chest, a little voice hoping your theory doesn't work out.

"Hey, Timothy! Stop!" Historia yanked short Timothy's shirt, dragging him away from the blue eyed Lily, a really pretty girl Historia rescued from the underground. Her red hair not perfect, you dropped the guitar, and offered to redo or revamp the whole mess.

"Hey," you said, a little tensed that if Lily would go you'll be alone with Captain asshole. "Let me do your hair?"

You can't really do much, your wrist still stiff and unmoving, gunshot still hurting, you settled on a low ponytail. You cringed at your job, shrugged it off and pursed your lip to contain the giggle. You looked at the Corporal if he was making the same expression of disappointment, but he was just looking at you.

"You know, you're getting creepy. Don't just stare, say something." His glare darkened, his _Tch_ mannerism out. You attached a flower you received from an child you forgot the name, blue perfect with Lily's natural red hair.

"Talking to me again huh?"

"You can't blame me. If I held a mirror every time you look at me you'll understand." You focused your nervous energy fiddling your guitar. "And you said some nasty things to me. You should've heard yourself."

"Do you hate me when I said that?"

"I don't hate you, I hate what you _said_. There's a difference." No one was looking at each other.

"So you don't hate me." Historia and the children went inside, the greenery plain and devoid of people. His squad followed the Queen, boxes and boxes they carried inside the newly constructed home.

"No, but I sure _loathe_ your words."

"Fine with me, I'm not a poet by profession for fuck's sake." You continued with the guitar, this time plucking a different progression.

"Levi," You stopped with the distraction, your whole body turned to him. "how do I interpret what you said? You needed me that's why you... did what you did? The courtship..? That's the only reason?"

"Don't be silly, of course everyone needs you here. That's a given. You made that stupid but useful killing machine in Trost, you cemented the roads so it's not disgusting on rainy days, you made water reach the fields, you made a fucking gear out of a gear, the air doesn't smell like a huge fart anymore, you made greasy medicines but at least they work. Of course everyone needs you."

Praises should make your heart flutter, it had always been that way. 'Good work' usually didn't stroke your ego, because you've received far more eloquent recognition than that, and while you content yourself with those boring two words, Levi's praise was beyond the usual, mundane formality. He listed everything you've done so far, telling you he was looking at them while you work. He saw what you've done. The skipping of meals and sleepless nights were for them, and the improvement in the quality of their lives, one by one you achieved them.

So why did it hurt?

"Is that so?" Something felt heavy in your chest, you nibbled at your inner lip to stop the gloss in your eyes from turning messy. You forced a smile you made sure to wrinkle the sides of your eyes. "Okay, I get it now." Your smile was almost failing you. "I guess I gotta get back to work." You can't bear to look, your smile intact, you talked in a manner you hoped didn't sound so happy.

So happy that it might've sounded so disappointed.

"I have to go now! Lots to do!" You tapped his shoulder, and walked away. 

* * *

The dinner was sweet potato and pumpkins; the production of vegetables growing due to accessibility of irrigation and you just didn't have an appetite to eat. You took a gulp of water, the guitar in your hand, and went outside.

"Heey." Petra approached you behind the stables, the serenity of the night calming you down, a sweet potato in her hands. "It's hot, careful." You waved her off, your face never once turning to her.

"F/N, look at m— why are you crying?!"

"Can you just take me home?" You wiped the tears off, the first time you allowed them to flow.

You sobbed.   
And sobs turned to muffled cries.

"Miss Petra—" You heard Mikasa, the tears you swallowed quick, but not enough to not be seen. An awkward silence among the three of you, your face stoic and straight, reflecting the good moonlight.

"Um, Mikasa, don't say anything inside okay?" Petra warned a subordinate.

"F/N, what happened?" Mikasa said, plain and cold but gentle, both of them anticipating an angst report. A few more seconds you didn't speak, feeling like if you did, you'll look like a hormonal 14 year old complaining about something so petty as that of her play date swiping her No.

Well, in this department, you certainly were.

Still, you decided to deny yourself of a simple pleasure of venting out. You pursed your lips, the hair needed to be tucked behind your loose ponytail.

"It's the Captain isn't it? Broken bones didn't make you cry." Petra said, slapping you with the warm potato.

"Let's just get me home." You wiped the last of the tear, taking a nibble from the potato.

"Or you can tell us so you don't cry yourself ugly tonight?" Petra said.

"Petra, Mikasa, really it means a lot you're asking my well-being but I'll be fine." You sighed, bagging the other half of the potato. You stood, guitar in your back. "I really should go." You walked around the stables, the line of horses now missing one.

His horse.

"If you're done being glassy eyed, then hop on. I'll take you home so we can talk." 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contradicting wasn't it? She said she didn't want a relationship and yet, when Levi told him they needed her expertise she blew off because she's been wooed for the 'wrong reason'. But reasons aside, why should it matter? She didn't want a relationship anyway, and she turned him down, so all's well that end well, should it not?
> 
> That had been her pattern of thinking before, so why did this particular situation be any different?
> 
> Her actions of crying and getting angry and frustrated didn't coincide with her rejection.
> 
> If words and actions are contradictory, which should prevail? Or is it a matter of love language?


	22. Adjustment of Language

You glanced nervously behind you, checking if the girls were seeing what you're seeing too. The thing was, they're already gone, probably in fear of an undue and untimely jog after a meal if they stared or lingered in the scene a little too long. Good thing to know, the now joint mess hall of squads were still loud, meaning no one was speculating this seemingly television-worthy in a windy, cold autumn night.

The glimmer of tears under the moonlight, you lowered your face, attention to your boots, you choked your refusal to hop on his horse.

"No one can take you home; if you want to walk, freeze and die that's your choice, but that's not okay to me. So don't act like an idiot and make the sensible decision, goddamnit."

"Stop treating me like a child..."

"Then don't act like one."

You begrudgingly stepped your foot on the stirrup iron, his hands assisted you with all the glory of his height. You hated being wrong but you knew he was right. Refusing a kind- _ish_ offer to get you home and bother someone else with your petty inconvenience to waste their precious, rare time to rest was childish and immature of you.

And again, that distinct and somehow warmer chest against your back as he joined you on top of his horse's back. You tried leaning a little bit forward, refusing to feel or be in contact with him. You've got to admit, you're feeling the scowl behind your back. But if he didn't like you aside from your usefulness to the corps, there's a legitimate reason for you to block him and his attempts at making you surrender. All your life your purpose to people was how useful you were to them, that's why they tolerated your dancing whenever you have an epiphany or your habit of giving an unsolicited concert while looking out for loopholes on every service they wanted from you.

And once you've ran out of usefulness, you're just the weird, too-skinny-for-her-age lady; Just another lunatic with her silly dances.

His horse began to walk, and you noticed then that he was taking his time walking his horse off, the bare, silent streets except for one or two drunkards staggering to get somewhere.

"Well? What did I do to make you cry?" He whispered behind you, something that sounded impatience laced his voice.

"You should know that." You mumbled. "But doesn't matter now, you got your point across." You were concentrating not to touch your back against him.

"Well, no use pouting like a little kid in shitty diapers. I won't be asking you unless I have an idea what got you acting like an menopausal old hag." _Tch_ , he said, and continued to scold you in a whisper while you concentrate not to touch his chest by your back.

"Oi, F/N, you'll kiss my horse at this point if I decided to break him to a run."

"Then I guess that's the last thing I'll do before I see God in the after life."

"That's not the idea I had in mind."

"Well what is?" You scoffed, mocking him in low voice. "Because it's pretty clear to me you wanted to keep me until I run out of use and then maybe, when I'm old and wetting my bed, you'll allow me to go home." Your voice raising a little, you tried to compose yourself, the frustration boiled then simmered down while you try to adjust. Then the hurt came even before you speak.

"You're doing this chasing thing for the wrong reasons, and I'm not one to tolerate bullshit when I see it."

He didn't speak for a long time. It just confirmed it. You read him right. Your eyes started to water again.

"I'm not Miche or Moblit level of expert but at least I know attraction when I see it. I'm not an idiot, just clueless." He said.

You scoffed instead, as you didn't want to sound embarrassed at the implication. The inference was easy to see, as incredulous as it sounded now. But why? How—

He was waiting for you to alight from his horse; the time passed too quickly while arguing with him in whispers. He was looking at you, eyebrows telling you to stop being in daze and let him assist your alight.

The breeze was colder now. Fresher.  
The town below almost pitch black, save for the occasional flicker of torches.  
Rustling of leaves, swaying of grass. 

"Th-The stars looks good. Good night." You said, a step you took then you remembered your knapsack hooked in the saddle.

"You forgot your—" you snatched it in his hands, but he was not it letting go. He pulled the bag closer, and you in the process, wincing at the sudden movement in your shoulders. The remorse of the rude gesture immediately set in, you waited for him a little more to say something, an apology for that rude-ass snatching you just did.

You didn't know why your nose was sensitive this day; maybe it was the fresher air in a cold autumn night, but he smelled like fresh soap.

Then iris.   
Then came the cedar and musk.

Your heart _should_ flutter at this melodramatic, picture perfect scenery unfolding, you as the main heroine and him? _Just_ Levi.

But it didn't. Instead, you felt calm now, even when it's just a thick knapsack and your clothes between the two you.

You let the knapsack go, and he also did, the pitiful bag thud and forgotten in the grass.

"I'm not doing this chase for the heck of your inventions, you got the contract for that."

"Would it be safe to say you're _attracted_ to me that you're doing this?" You mocked, but in truth it hurt.

"Yes, and I don't want to listen to that word anymore, it makes my skin crawl."

Your eyebrow raised. It wasn't the answer you were anticipating. The anger evaporated and carried somewhere by the wind. His eyes gotten a little softer now.

But all the jokes aside...

"Why?" You started to a whispered in disbelief. "You just told me I'm not hot, not the cuddly type. It's just so out of the blue that you're telling me you wanted... this— whatever this is." You blabbered on and on, and you didn't know if he was listening because he busied himself in picking up and making sure your bag was not stained in the butt.

"The point is, it's just too sudden! It's not even half a year that you know me, one time you're glaring at me everywhere I go— break my wrist then now you act like a gentleman, giving me cute ponytails... like nothing happened." You sighed, your litany hopefully didn't sound like a rap.

"Dude, I'm just being careful here. I don't want unnecessary baggage to consider whether to go home or not." You hoped your eyes spoke for your doubts and how scared you're becoming.

"Beats me. Can't make a blueprint about it or a detailed 3 months and a half journal like shitty glasses does." You should've opened your mouth to argue, to tell him he can't decide that he fell in love in just three months but he had something more to say. He was becoming uncomfortable by the twitch on his eyebrows with your meticulous scrutiny in every word he came up with. You let the silence be filled with his words, and you thought it's just right that he did. After all, you'll be giving a big amount of your time to let him earn the trust he so wanted from you.

Let him know it now.   
If he's serious in this investment, he better know you never come cheap.

And decidedly, it was an acceptable reason.   
One that sounded so sincere by how silent he became.

"But I can tell you this." His eyes focused on you. "If three months were all it took for you to save my team, my comrades, and do something big _for_ us, no nails and broken bones, It wouldn't be questionable nor would it need to take too long to wonder if someone chased after you." He adjusted the falling sleeve of your knitted sweater, his eyes unfailing to make contact with yours.

"Do you understand? Or is something else in your mind?"

"You don't find me attrac—"

"There're better things than being hot. Not saying you're ugly and your head's all you're good at, but it's a start."

You didn't speak. You were waiting for more.

"Get inside," he put a single pat in your head. "it's getting colder." And you noticed something. How can you just notice it now? He can be rough and tough while in business, but when you quit the Survey somehow, it became like _this_. It wasn't in your intention that Levi would do unthinkable things like gifts and courtship but you can't help but wonder if you continued to be on the Corps. If you didn't quit, would he even think of doing... whatever this was?

You nodded at the realization: He himself was thinking of the future as well, in his own little way. 

If you didn't quit, there's this possibility that you'll get killed. But when you become a civilian, there's a bigger chance of survival. And him? He's fighting to be _allowed_ to live a life with meaning.

And probably, with you in it.  
Only if you chose to stay.

Was this a bad assumption? Yes, but it's not wrong to give it a little thought.

_You're getting full of yourself, F/N. You know how badly it's becoming in the book. Stop kidding yourself._

You tugged at the hem of his coat, "Actually, I have... something to show you." You gestured him to wait; your voice was quiet and timid, but the hope in your chest swelled bigger and bigger that he'll like this present you're about to give him.

After all, it _is_ your legacy in the event that you choose to leave. That didn't matter now. You just wanted him to have it.

"Okay," you gave him two rolled blueprints "I already talked to the Queen about this. I told her to keep it from you." He was just looking at the papers, confusion in the twitch of his eyebrows.

"This," you pointed at one of the rolled paper, "it's an underground easement for view plan. It's going to um, modify Mitras to give sunlight in the underground." You were waiting for him to say something. You filled the silence this time.

"I noticed when I got there after the raid that some people can't walk. Probably because they lack vitamin D and probably why you didn't have a good height— but that's a different story, the thing is, it's going to give a decent amount of sunlight so molds can't grow. You hate molds right? Yeah." You bit your lip, and you poked the other rolled paper, "That's mods in Mitra's sewage. I saw Mitras' dumping problem goes to the underground, so that's a plan to redirect it, well, it's going to be dumped outside Trost wall breach, and will be extended if Shiganshina opens."

A long pause.   
  
  
  


"Thank you." The gentleness in it was in contrast to how hoarse his voice was. He was getting closer, you just noticed it, his boots now touching yours, but his hands never did anything. It somehow disappointed you.

"Your....welcome..?" Your giggle came out awkward. "I was planning to give it on your birthday, but I don't know if I'll be able to stay alive by then." You said in a giggle, and you earned a _Tch_ from the man.

"You can tell the Queen if you wanted to lobby it, it's really up to you. Historia has a copy already so when you wanted to go with the plan, she's just waiting for you."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"Well, you're so close now! Are you going to kiss me or hug me or what?" He looked confused. You rolled your eyes. Any sensible man in your world would have cried and gave you a hug right now! Teary eyed and all!

"Urgh, for the love of god!" You gave him a hug, enduring that painful contraction of shoulder muscles as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"You know this is pretty shameless of me, but at least try to look happy with the gift. After all, I made that since the raid."

He ruffled your hair. "Really? How many times have you done that already?" 

  
You didn't see it coming.  
The ruffling ceased.   
His hand tugged your hair.   
Tilted your head.

And gave you the briefest of kiss. 

***


	23. Hindsights and Premonitions

_He ruffled your hair. "Really? How many times have you done that already?"_   
_You didn't see it coming._   
_The ruffling ceased._   
_His hand tugged your hair._   
_Tilted your head._

_And gave you the briefest of kiss._

* * *

... in your palms.

"No." You flatly said, guarding your lips with your palms. You said it too harshly it might have sounded like a human talking to her chihuahua, but you won't tell him that. It caught him off guard. You almost did too, actually. You had to sacrifice the pain in your shoulder, but it was worth not giving it so easily. You may be injured but your reflexes are topnotch.

"Too fast too early. Now get back to your horse."

"Tch."

"That's right," You redirected his focus to the gentle creature, a small frying pan that once hanged in your wall not clutched by your hand. "Not cute. You'll have me on my terms soldier. Not your Private anymore."

He walked back to his horse, grumpier than usual but the draft was something he held closely. _Dearly_. You weren't wary he'll do something more than a peck because you know he wouldn't dare, but it's called a _chase_ for a reason. You both can afford a little tease right? It's not too much of a luxury.... is it? Will there be more of these little moments? You don't know. He may be alive in the future, but alive never meant living in the first place.

"But thanks for always bringing me here." You said, as you leaned in your doorframe. Back warm, front cold, you watched him ride away, in the cold dry autumn night. 

* * *

"So," Hange said, thrilled to see the contraband they took from the MP. It looked like the shrapnel, you used in the 57th expedition, except that yours was a hybrid of a big bazooka on a tube with a string fuse. Different look, _same_ mechanism.

Eerie.

"You thought I didn't notice it but," Hange said, her squinting eyes you can feel dampening your back, "My gun powders, magnesium and aluminums AND my tubes are all Moblit inventoried, F/N. I know when something goes missing."

You gulped. You're not in the military anymore, but you committed series of thievery when you're in it. "Will you tell Erwin?" You cringed.

"He knows already. He's a big yes when it comes to you, you know." She walked around her laboratory, the disassembled contraband from Kenny's squad in her table.

"You saved them with that— what do you call it?"

"However you call it."

"Yes, that— you made before." She began to salivate, she probably heard it from a Levi or Miche. "How did you do that anyway? Tell me."

And so you did.

"So you call that Bazooka in your world?"

"Mm-hmm" you stuck your tongue— _urgh, the tea was awful._ "But I had to improvise so I just made what I can do. Sorry about your plumbing."

"Apology taken in good."

"Anyway... how did the MP have these things?" You sighed, that hair you tucked behind your ear as you examined the mechanism of the contraband.

"The gear? That was your deal with Zackley."

"I know," You slowly said in a low growl of impatience. "How about this? Who made this?" You were hoping for an answer that dismisses the things that seared and screamed in your head.

"That? We don't know. Can't be yours though, they had it before you joined the Military."

"Are you sure? Because I made mine for the 57th expedition."

"F/N, where are you getting with this? They never had eyes on you after your trial. The contract assured your safety so long as you keep the bargain. And you did."

"Are you sure no one did this before? Any account on the name of the person who made this?"

"We don't know? Why? You want to meet _him_ too?"

"Are you sure it's a he?"

* * *

"Hey! Don' _throw the stones_ _at us!_ Hurts like a bitch!"

You heard one of the miners from the cave. It wasn't your first time to visit the site, but it sure was a glowing mess... and unbearably cold. The chunks of boulders and blue iceburst stones carefully heaved and brought to the Factory city, the variety of lamp blueprints you've made for the nighttime scouting and for household use suddenly were worth more than Historia's crown, specifically, the stones in them.

You held one for yourself. It wasn't exactly a stone, you recognized the properties were similar with Methane ice, and the confirmed source of energy it can provide. The only difference was that, it glows and Methane ice doesn't.

"Don't bring fire in! You'll blow this whole place up and _we'll all die!_ " You yelled, your voice painfully hoarser than the almost healed graze in your shoulder. The cast in your wrist have yet to heal.

"You really got this huh?" Petra asked, tapping you on the shoulder. She was your 'assistant' today, the meeting to take in Shiganshina pushed weeks earlier as Erwin needed to go and have his armless torso checked and rechecked for the upcoming expedition. Levi wasn't able to convince him despite his threats to use violence if he insisted to come. You told him to break his leg if he had to, but the Commander was determined. It was not in your place to insist, what is one time to actually talk to him while fitting his gear? You knew his arm was waiting for him in the afterlife, and you wanted to prevent it, but how?

You have no idea, and the clock is ticking.

Few _mangled_ _intestines_ and greasy brains flat and slippery; the maggots infested the eyeballs _squished_ in between the rocks. Possibly an interior police who got caught in the explosion while the Survey retrieved Eren and Historia. The dog ate the flesh, happily _chewing_ the now human jerky while it tried to flash envy of his twisted treasure to the other of its same breed.

You watched, in _déjà vu_

The dog was licking the grayed arm in sleeve.   
Then the bloody, clumpy, matted hair.   
The ears crunched against the pressure of their jaws.

"-N?"

"F/N?"

"Hey! F/N!" Petra poked your wound, pain brought you back to her. "Are you listening?"

"Yes," you said too fast, you tried to breathe. "Yes I am, you wanted ointment right?"

"Mm-hm," she nodded, lips pursed. A look so alive in her eyes. "My back and my neck is _killing_ me."

"You need a massage. Can't give it to you." You showed her your arm. "I'm practically useless right now."

"Don't say that, Oluo too. He said his back is _killing_ him, he _lies_ on his stomach."

The clattering of the rocks against each other that you can't almost hear her. Someone was _shouting_ muffled _commands_. _Everyone_ _was_ busy.

_Dead._

_Everyone was a slave to someth—_

"I'll make some after this. I thought they already took the bodies of the Interior squad?"

"I thought so too." Weeks have passed and all that's left were the matted black hair stuck in the stone, or the jaws sandwich between rocks and stones. It smelled putrid. _Dead._

"What is that?" Petra pointed with her thin, long index finger "D-Did, did the Captain do that?"

"Where?"

If you haven't seen a cold body yet, you could have sworn you could've gagged right there. Trost battle was not the first time you've seen one. The maggots infested its eyes as it blankly stared right back; it's dead, matted, eyes, gray and unfocused, her _nose_ _oozed_ with brown blood. She was a _natural ginger_ if it weren't for the brown blood that dyed her hair when it pinned the head in place. Squeezed and squeezed against the floor and the pile of stones on top of her. You knew her body was pancake flat against it. And there's something about it, that you thought it smiled against the corner of its eyes.

"Don't look at it." You took Petra away. A fly came from her mouth. "Don't—" she flailed her arms.

"Sorry, the fly was...."

"Let's go." You looked at the dependable middle aged man excavating a body. The commissioned workers of about a _hundred_. "Sir, please separate the stones with the body or flesh. The garrison will burn them and take their... um, remnants to their families."

"You're really kind missy." The scrapping sounds of shovel against the pile of _stones thrown_ and gathered to one place. He stopped working; his eyes, tired and red. "But these kinds of people just protected the false monarchy. I think they deserve to get eaten by the dogs."

"They're just _fighting to live_ sir," your eyes lingered too long in the cold ginger head. "It's a job they thought they had to do. So, do yours."

* * *

_"No! Don't! Stop!"_

_"Raaaaaaaah!"_

You see the coagulating string ofsaliva sticky against the child's laughter.

The sun almost set in new blood and orange, Miche approached you, leaning in the fence of the orphanage. "You've gotten some flesh." He said, handing you a humanoid carrot still with soil in it. "Let's keep it that way."

You gratefully accepted it; wiped clean the purple vegetable, with its little limbs sticking out at either side, the 'hair' you _pulled out_. You took a crunchy _bite_ of the body, then you _nibbled_ at the arms.

"Sweet."

"The vegetable production gone high."

"Glad to know."

"Humanity is fighting," you looked at him, hearing his last words for the second time. "it has a chance to not lose."

The children _wailed in group_ , _battle cries ready_ as they launched at the big bully who threw them blades of grass.

You watched, just observing.

"Yes." You said in a whisper, your eyes focused on the mock battle. "Yes."

"You don't sound so convinced."

"I- I am." You looked at his worried lines in the corner of his eyes. "I have to go, I um... I have to make um, ointments."

"Perfect, give me one _for my legs_ will you? They're hurting for a week now-"

"Yes." Your heart was ran wild against your ribcage; the similarities were unnatural. Today was unnatural. There's this hunch in your gut, while you look at the _limbless_ , _headless_ carrot leftover tight in your hand. Usually it starts as a white static noise at the back of your head. And then it becomes louder as the hour passes. Then the deafening vacuum of silence. Usually the shouts of command and the giggles of the children were enough to bring you back; you even blame the caffeine for making you overthink of the parallels that seems to repeat itself like an echo.

_Instead of fading, they're getting louder. Getting nearer._

Something had been bothering you about the contraband the first time you saw it during the coup. It wasn't just Eld's death that shook you, but at least you let it flow freely in your head now that you made a coherent thought about it.

See, the contraband may have been kept for years since the past government was clearly against any technological advancement. It kept you awake for weeks with this sole question:

If it was kept for a very long time, why did it have the same mechanism as that one you used against Annie?

It **can** be a coincidence, you thought. But then, how did you draft the _same exact_ mechanism for Executioner from Hell, as if you knew and studied it before? Because you never did.

Coincidence? Then you remembered one of the scrap blueprints you made before you settled on the big shrapnel design for the 57th expedition.

It looked eerily similar to the thing you have in mind, and will be made by Hange soon. But will she? Or do you have to give the draft soon?

The sun will set soon; something about its red reminded you of the day that blood will be spilled. At first you ignored it, like a gust of wind that doesn't pass for the second time, but how do you know it doesn't, when you _can't_ see it?

"What did you say hurt to you again, Miche?"

"The legs."

"Oh my God." You choked; the contents of your almost empty stomach burned your throat. "I'm sorry." In between your suffocation. "I'm so sorry Miche. I'll do anything I can." You gulped, because it truth, you _can't._

Not until you're willing to pay in equal price.   
Because sometimes, you can't cheat death, no matter how many times you try.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if you noticed it the first time, but try to take a second look at the italicized words, and try to remember how each and everyone of those who remained alive in this story, died in the canon.
> 
> I am back! Hello!
> 
> I hope you like the previous episodes this episode included, and yes! He was clueless and given that he couldn't rely on anyone's advice, (Can you imagine him going to Erwin or 15 year olds about lady problems? I can't.) he decided to just wing it and see where it lands. He didn't exactly got it the first try, but at least he salvaged it in the end. I don't know— I feel like the thing about him being a virgin is not true. At least physically. (Maybe 2-3) But I would also think that he is new and not in tune with romantic attachments. In short, he know the ropes of the physical play, but a big baby on the emotional side. Hmmmm.
> 
> Also, the 'hot thing' I would think that he has his own definition of hot. Because the reader means the Physically hot. But what was Levi referring as hot was the little things: (he's always looking.) the seriousness in her face when she's working, her work ethics, her balls, her intellect, and her compassion to humans whom she has no reason to help. Reader is an anomaly to him, the good kind now.


	24. Remake I

You were getting a lot of stares from the Privates, to the squad leaders. Apparently they never saw you devour a whole plate other than nibble around it.

You gobbled your eggplants like your life depended on it; there were raised eyebrows when you swallowed the two eggs without the assistance of water.

"F/N," Jean said, astounded that your small mouth can take in two meat cuts at the same time. "We have a night to eat—"

You took your plate, taking a piece of meat to bait to the tied up Sasha. "Hey, please don't eat my share!"

"Sorry Sash but,"you said, exhaling for the first time. You swayed the meat in front of her, the tied up cowgirl sticking her tongue to feast on the bait. "motor needs fuel." You stood, while you eat her share in front of her. You walked away before Connie could shriek in horror, his plate now devoid of potatoes.

You exploited your connections with the Queen. For the remaining peaceful weeks, you've squeezed your time to visit her receiving area, shameless that you're using Her status and Her connections with Her subjects to pressure Pyxis to take notice of your 'petty' agenda. You bribed him of your hard earned gold coins spent on a big chunk of marinated meat. Erwin was backing you up, upholding his end of the deal.

He never had a choice really, not when you told him in the face that he was lying through his teeth, deceiving men after men to sign their deaths, while he crossed their names off his long list of idiots who listened to him.

"Deceive me," You said to your former Commander. "let me do this plan, to help you reach your childhood wet dream." You mocked, your face would probably look stoic like any other times you've gone angry.

"Sir Pyxis has a big mouth." He chuckled, giving you a glass of water, offering you a seat.

"He gladly opened his mouth with meat. My money ran out." He laugh contained no humor.

"When you said you were from a different world, it made me wonder how freeing that something like another world could be beyond the walls—"

"A panoramic view salt water is beyond the walls. Erwin." His face began to shift. "It's blue, like your eyes. In our world, we call it the beach." You sat, your eyes hard focus on him, his face painted envy. He poured you another glass of water, intent in listening to the prose you've told him. He's going to go; you can see the surrender behind his determined eyes, and the least you can do was to give him a vision of what he was fighting for and what he was missing while he busied himself in atonement of his father's death. His selfish, childhood dream that he was trying all his life to get.

He was _just_ curious, for fuck's sake.   
He shouldn't bet lives for it.

Knowledge in your world comes too cheap, too free for people to patronize.   
In this world, a strand of knowledge is paid with pile of corpses.

You told him of beaches; how salty the water is, how the waves come and go and that it might be as huge as Eren's titan, or as puny as a tickle on his ankles. That the creatures living in it are mostly edible if cooked properly, and how deep it could go that even the colossal titan will be submerged and sink below.

You told him of white, cold blocks of ice and the penguins and polar bears, hot stream of geysers and sulfur hot springs. You can't forget to tell him how fast cheetahs are, or how lions are the bigger, deadly version of cats.

You told them dogs aren't food in your world, but is mostly treated as a family member.

You told him that people in your world are born in different colors, shapes, and sizes. And while there are the times they are persecuted openly for their origins, the idea of acceptance was spreading like wildfire.

He listened in fascination like an old friend.   
And you cried while telling a tale like he was in his death bed.

Because you know that he is.

"I better get going." You said, your eyes swollen and red. You wiped the last of the tears, slapping your equally swollen cheeks.

"Are you sure you don't need me to accompany you home?"

"No," you said in a whisper. You take in his form: blonde, tall, high cheek bones, blue eyes, aristocratic nose. "I'll be fine on my own." Because it might be the last time you'll see it.

"Before I go," you held the door twisted, "did I... make your evening better?" A pause passed before you snorted and him, laughed at the double connotation of your words. You had a crush on his high cheek bones before, that time you saw him in Military court.

"Good night F/N."

" _Goodbye_ Erwin." 

* * *

You were preparing to brave out the travel home, and Levi just had to corner you with his bigger horse.

"You can't even hold the reins properly."

"You have an expedition tomorrow, Lev. I'll manage to go home." He alighted from his horse, his arms held out to assist your alight, but you didn't surrender to his offer.

"You should get some rest." He looked at your inked hands, smudges of black in your fingers.

"You got a makeover." he was referring to your swollen eyes glistening with ink and tears. Oh damn it, you probably smudged the ink in your face when you slapped your cheeks.

"You smell like aged ale with body odor."

"Shut up and let me take you home." He signaled you to descend with two fingers. He caught you by your waist, and it's not true he smelled like onions. If anything was more intoxicating than ale, it was the whiff of iris that followed him anywhere he goes. It was comforting; a sanctuary against the cruel reminders of the impending deaths to come. You wanted to be wrong this time. That maybe it was just an over reading given by how cautious you can be.

Still, you can't help but tug on his coat, his face getting more and more annoyed by the minute.

"Pull me or drag me inside your house, I don't care, but don't do this on the street."

"Hard to concentrate with the reins?"

"Yes."

"You know, I might die tomorrow Lev. What are you gonna do if that happens?"

"Don't say shit like that. You're not coming with us."

"I'm not, you don't need to worry about it."

"But knowing you, you're going to do something reckless like talk to the Queen brat or negotiate with the drunken moustache." You laughed at this. Was he still following you around?

"Not bad inference, but I'm not coming with you."

"Then what are you planning?" He stopped the horse, your house just beyond that slope. He alighted, and assisted your forced descend. "What do you plan on doing this time?" His hand was on the rein, his horse successfully caging you against him. Was it worry? Panic? You don't know. You saw him grit his molars, his jaw tightening, his eyes becoming desperate...

And the wind was so cold that it probably made him freeze.

"I'll wear my best tomorrow, so if you come back, look for me." You handed him his gift, tied the yellow band on his wrist.

You didn't want to go, but the preparation was not yet over. You forego the sappy goodbye, the last thing you didn't want to prepare for.

"Good night Levi."

* * *

You laid the plan over the Garrison's squad leaders.

The plan:

1\. Adopt Erwin's Long Distance Range Formation, encircling both ends outside wall Maria;

2\. Right troop to fix the canons and to breach Shiganshina's walls and provide a way out for the soldiers and horses because shit _will_ go down;

3\. Left troop to provide gas and relief to Armin and Hange's squad.

4\. Lure the smaller titans away from the battlefield, and quickly retreat to Karanes and Chlorba.

You? You're prepared to risk the almost healed bullet wound and broken wrist. Heck, probably even your life.

"Any questions?" You solicited but none came. Pyxis was smirking at you. Your palms hit the table, scribbles of the tactic smudging your hands.

"I have not heard anyone in the walls of those fabrics. Must've cost a fortune."

"When you're probably going to end up dead, you might as well look pretty." You double checked your gear, a long time since you used one. Thunder spears attached on both of your forearms, your broken wrist just patched tightly with bandages; your thighs kissing the scabard for the blades.

"When you get back, tell me where you bought them huh?" A garrison member told you. Must be a new recruit.

"Sure." You said absentmindedly, but ruffled her head otherwise. She was young and cocky. "But remove that smug if you want to live. This is war kid. Underestimation gets you killed."

The cool hope in her smirk fizzled when the hooves of the horses drummed against the soil. 

* * *

"F/N?" Jean and Armin were losing it. They probably thought Hange's squad were dead.

"Situation?" You asked in hopes to refresh your memory of the details of the war. You gave them 6 full gas tubes, your wound screaming at you to stop moving.

"Why are you here—"

"You brought gas—"

"The Garrison are encircling the gate to fire the canons and make a hole in Shiganshina so a escape route is secured." They are trying to make sense of your report. Your were calm, thoughts fluid. You fired your smoke signal—

"Erwin is already aware. Anytime soon, they will make a signal in 3, 2, 1–" You redirected their focus away from Berthold, the gate filled with green smoke, you fired the same color....

**BOOM!**  
**BOOM!**

The colossal titan stopped his rampage when he saw the hole plugged in by Reiner reopen for escape. Arson was spreading quickly on the houses of Shiganshina. You heard Connie throw a misplaced pun joke that Sasha had to punch him in the head. You laughed sincerely at the comedy unfolding in front of you, after a very long time of being gloomy and nervous, you did.

Manlet Handsome was rubbing his dry humor on you. He won't laugh at this situation, but probably, his subtle but constant, and incessant effort of making you feel safe in the past few weeks when he learned about your breakdown on Miche was doing the trick. You should probably kiss the crap out of him if you get out of this alive.

Goddamnit, you're not thinking how sad and hot he was last night.

"The garrison will not help on securing the horses, but they will lure the smaller titans away from the battlefield. Armin," You pressured the 15 year old blonde. "what do you plan on doing?" 

"We'll continue our original plan of fighting a war of attrition against the colossus titan until our main target appears." He was visibly scared pulling the strings.

"Hold on Armin," said Jean, pointing at the wall where the throne of Erwin sits, "we can't let Berthold get near the wall where the commander's group is..." you let Jean's antithesis unfold. It was true, like Annie's titan, the skinless parts exudes so much heat it can ignite gun powder. That's why you got Annie's eye back then.

"Armin," Jean said, "if the fire spreads faster, not only are we going to be barbecued alive, but the commander's group will be sandwiched between the beast titan and flaming houses. F/N opened the hole so we can go back and forth Maria and Shiganshina, but unless we defeat the colossal first, the commander's group will be sandwiched between the beast and the flames."

The blonde was becoming more and more unsure.   
You know that feeling you can only gag at the sickening twist in your stomach when you realize _lives_ are at stake in every decision you make.

"Orders! We need orders Armin!"

"The fire is getting closer!"

"Make up your mind! We don't have much time left!"

"Jean, could you take over for... me—"

" **Armin** ," you clasped his shoulders too tightly, pain probably reminding him to get out of tunnel vision. It happened to you; you know how it goes to be so desperate but inevitably lose. Your breaths heavy and synchronized with him as you made him look at you in the eyes.

"Breathe, these are your options: We can take try to take him down right now, or lure him by Eren, so he can stay away from the wall. The gate is open now, you have gas. As we speak—"

**BOOM!**  
**BOOM!**  
**BOOM!**

You stroked his bangs to make him see clearer. He was scared too. All of you were. But who wouldn't be? You remembered watching this scene where the brown dust and red blood bursted together no one can tell which was which. 15-16 year olds too scared of the thrashing and loud clattering of boulders and wails of their comrades. Mangled intestines and greasy brains flat and slippery, eyeballs squished in between the soil and the rocks.

The first pitch of rocks have been thrown...

_"Don't bring fire in! You'll blow this whole place up and we'll all die!"_

_"Hey! Don't throw the stones at us! Hurts like a bitch!"_

"It's up to you. Decide quickly." 

***


	25. Remake II

"It's up to you. Decide quickly."

"The horses! The horses are retreating to this wall! Sasha exclaimed, her index finger shakily pointing at the now opened gate.

He found fresh determination. Clarity and fighting spirit deadly underneath his meek fringe, Armin spoke:

"Don't let Bertolt get any closer to that wall. We'll have to stop that beanpole from moving another step!"

"B-But the hot steam he produces means we can't get close enough!"

"We'll just have to wing it Sasha, and hope we don't die trying. Eren," it was your first time stepping on his shoulder in his titan form. "Stop him at all cost."

You saw Mikasa's life flashed before her eyes when she saw Eren got sent flying over the wall by a flimsy kick. The rest of them tried to divert his attention from the wall using thunder spears which proved to be futile. You heard Connie complain about his burnt throat, and a bleeding Mikasa caught in the shrapnel of her own arsenal.

"Armin," he looked at Mikasa's call, doubt creeping again, "Do you see anything we can do to fight back?"

"Nothing."

"The recruits and horses are safe for now." You nodded at their direction. They retreated from Maria to Shiganshina, constant angry bombardment of Zeke's pitches forced them to the walls. You have to say something before hope got sucked out of his eyes. Terrified and freshly signed to die, the recruits guarded the reins of the horses like their lives depended on it. Erwin and Levi were probably talking about their suicidal counterattack.

The commander torn between his childhood dream and the adult in need of a solution in this madness, he sat in the wooden box.

And you saw Levi's shocked expression transitioned to calm. He kneeled, his expression unreadable.

Miche was alive.  
Petra and Oluo were missing.

The small manpower you borrowed from the Garrison, must've also died along the other Survey squads; the weight of having the dead behind your decisions almost made you gag. How can Erwin stomach this? Here it was, the same suffocating feeling of the sinister twisting in your gut that you tried to swallow.

Then you saw the numerous red smoke signals near Chlorba and Karanese, and the tie in your stomach undid itself, your breathing began to stabilize, realizing that many or some of the Garrison members probably made it back to shelter, luring smaller, abnormal titans with them before Zeke threw the second pitch.

But where are Oluo and Petra?

You maneuvered to them, probably like a drunkard struggling of balance, you didn't know. Someone called your name passed louder than the bombardment of Zeke's pitches. You didn't care.

Where is Petra? If Miche's alive, where the fuck is Petra?

You abhorred Zeke.  
Complete loathing consumed you; you didn't know you were even capable of having.

_"It doesn't matter if we protect these horses because no one will be around to ride them home!"_

_"I never imagined that dying like that could be so meaningless..."_

_"When I think about that's what happens to nearly all of us who die... why did I ever think that It'll be different for me?"_

"Erwin," You intruded your way over their suicidal brainstorming while the recruits busied themselves in wailing. Levi stopped talking suddenly, dim, hopeless gray eyes seemed to portray a little softer now, and then the alarm in them set in, accusing Erwin and you of what weird fuck could be your appointment in the battlefield.

"You got the gas?" You equipped yourself of fresh tubes, stripping Miche and Levi off theirs to recharge. You knew what he was planning, but soldier or not, you just wanted more people to go home at this point.

"F/N you're bleeding." Said Miche. True, your shoulder wound reopened, fresh like it was during the coup.

"Let it be. I'll come with you, Miche."

Levi did not bother to hide the horror in his eyes when you said you were prepared to do something so reckless as participate in a suicide mission. The recruits' lives were more than enough that you don't need to come and die and think you did something to be proud of in the afterlife, maybe he was thinking like that. He pressed your wound, but never did you wince in pain.

"Miche—"

"Oi F/N, I told you to not come with us." Levi interjected.

"That's why I came on my own." You removed his thumb that was pressing the reopened pain, the bleeding sticky and apparent in your lucky shirt.   
When you wore this with Annie, it was to give you more luck. Today, you worn it because black is suitable for funerals.

"We're not hosting a comedy here. Go home, wait for me. Wait for the news. You've done more than enough blasting the wall." The panic in his voice was similar to the untamable fire behind all of you.

The cries for mercy.  
The heavy pounding in the walls.  
The scorching heat.  
The smell of fresh kill and blood.

  
It was literal hell.

"F/N," Miche said tapping you head, sidestepping Levi's curseful rants. "thank you for giving me more time." You exhaled to keep the tears at bay.

"Tell Nanaba I said hi."

* * *

The next pitch will be thrown in mere minutes.

The humanity's second strongest hunted the left line of titans that caged and seemingly put the death cries of the young recruits to shine. You tagged behind him, their heads served as your stool, taking in the right beat to blind the hairy fucker by your spears.

You need to blind Zeke before could look at the formation reveal of the smoke signals fired by the recruits.

Before he could do the worst damage by _mere_ throwing of stones.

It was utter, humiliating defeat.

**_"MY SOLDIERS RAGE! MY SOLDIERS SCREAM!"_ **

_But it might mean something as long as you breathe._

You removed the pin on the stun grenade and you watched Zeke's attention flicker on it. It was enough that he briefly looked.

You took the chance to aim the spears on both of his eyes.   
You pulled the triggers.  
The rope cut, the retraction harsh.

Miche stopped the nape slicing to pull you away from the explosion of your own arsenal. He, just in time, threw you aside, before the row of abnormals tore him from limb to limb.

It all happened so quickly in the books. You remembered the adrenaline of being a mere spectator of it all.

Now look at you, hot shrapnel digging both to your shoulders, both probably broken again, all because you insist on acting like an all knowing protagonist on the real fucking deal.

Soon, the beast's beaded eyes scattered like paint splatter in the air, buying more time for the recruits to get out of the pitcher monkey's way.

But the monkey aimlessly threw one, uncrushed, rock, just after all of the recruits part sideways. 

Erwin was the in first line of fire.

* * *

The rustles of fabric applied on your bare arms awoke you.

You remembered seeing that most of the recruits made it before Zeke threw the boulder, and at least that's a good thing. The name of the soldier that carried you with his horse was Marlowe, and you recognized the boy in his bowl-cut glory, dead expression in his face. He, like most of the recruits cannot believe they made it out alive by the skin of their teeth, whether it was raining stones, or house debris. Then you remembered—

"Marlowe?" You asked the bowl cut to distract him from fear. "Where's Petra?" You peered while you lean your back against his. Pain in both of your arms, he tied you in his back to stabilize you, while you ride home.

No one asks these types of questions in the Survey; it was taboo.

"She..." he can't bring himself to say the words. You just wanted the confirmation, that's all. You knew what happened to her.

What she looked like.   
How she looked after.  
And what expression she was putting on.

"She's crushed by stones Oluo and her, didn't she?"

"She pushed us away while we protected the horses," he began to cry. "Sir Oluo tried to protect her, but both of them got caught in the rocks."

You wanted the short yes or no, but it was more than enough that they had a chance to make a choice before the last the light left their eyes.

"They fought bravely, ma'am."

* * *

It was almost night time, and both of you still haven't made it back. The distance to cover will take about 10 more minutes before you can make it back to Trost, or anywhere within the parameter where the brave young man can report.

"Everyone must've thought we're dead so they left us."

"Yeah."

"You think there's still a titan around?"

"No, ma'am."

"It's fine anyway, most of them are inactive at night."

Silence.

"Do you think we can fire our flare to signal we're still here?"

"They can't see that damn thing at night, Marlowe."

"Damn," you were approaching the gate, but unless both you have enough gas to leap in the top of the wall...

"Do you have gas?"

"We stripped it down because we didn't think it was necessary."

Your fingers struggled to give him the last of your stun grenade. "Take my gear, and remove that," your lip pointed the circle. "Then fire the last of your smokes. I'll wait here."

A few minutes in and there was no galloping of hooves, or any human made sound to be heard.

Until you heard it.   
Two of them actually.   
Both sporting weird, outdated haircut.

"Ma'am F/N!" Marlowe called you before you surrender yourself to sleep from pain, hunger and exhaustion. You peered at the approaching men, minutes later, familiar warmth touched your skin, and iris engulfed your olfactory.

"Hey." You said weakly, but Levi wasn't speaking. He was looking at you, seemingly internalizing that you lived. This undercut fucker was always so... cool. Clean, badass. But right now? He was sweaty, panicky, in disbelief. _Relieved_. He probably thought you died out there.

"Sir, I found her wandering around before—"

"Marlowe, was it?"

"Yes Sir!"

"You did good to stay alive," he said to him, while he carried your limp, delicate form in his arms all the while he dragged himself to walk and put on that stoic, Corporal Levi face while the young Private led the way.

"Levi?" You said, as you buried your face against his chest. He hated public displays of affection, evident on the tugging of his cloak during that one horse ride home. But this time, it probably was because you're dying or in pain or something, that he allowed you to take advantage of the his cradling.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You didn't let a single recruit die at the charge."

"Not that, Petra—"

"You appear whenever someone's going to die that you almost got yourself killed trying to save _everyone_."

The tears now stung your eyes. It was time to mourn. You wondered how he deals with it. Does he drink himself wasted? Lay with a woman? Try to read a book? Yoga? Cry? Because you need it right now. You badly need the distraction when all of the losses come at once. The scoff came now.

Then another, then another until you can't stop the flow of tears. You tried to silence your whimpers against his chest, to try and comfort yourself of his calming scent. But nothing worked.

Distractions didn't work now, but since did it ever?

"We're almost there." You heard his shaky whisper against your ear, and you just noticed how bad he was trembling against the little warmth you have. He was carrying you in the part of a building you could only guess was his bedchamber.

Pristine and minimal.   
Devoid of any attachment.

Save for the yellow silk you returned to him, before you surely thought you were going to die.

No one was speaking while he pick the shrapnel against your arms, cleaned them, patched them. He re-stitched the reopened wound while you busy yourself wincing from the pain, in which he took greater care.

"These will leave scars."

"I know." You said, in a whisper. You weren't referring to your arms.

The Levi you saw as a child of the underground had a mean look in his face, but there were no shadows casted against them. His irises were bigger, his pupils were not dilated. Something made him change.

This, _this_ continuous, cumulative despair might've made him almost mad.

And you don't know if you could handle being like him, with his emotions tightly guarded and sealed in reins.

You know, he was fighting to not breakdown probably after every expedition, after every war because he was supposed to be strong.

He was _forced_ to be strong.

But who's going to be there at these moments of weakness?

"Stay still—"

"Allow yourself to feel," you whispered, as you encased him with a hug. You were bleeding, pained and sweaty against the most fastidious man you'll ever have the pleasure of meeting, but it didn't bother him. At first, his muscles stiffened, attempted to remove your arms against him while he scolded you about reopening your patchwork.

But you didn't care, and neither did he.

He eased his muscles; the shadows in his eyes back again. Suitors are supposed to put their best foot forward in your world, and he could have been already rejected by the first woman he'll try to woo because this man have _nothing_ to offer but how sorry he always is, for his entire life.

He's barely keeping it together, but inside is a mess he have no clue how to deal with.

"You can't bring them back with feelings, F/N. I can pray to gods I don't believe in, and they still will not bring back the dead. Dead is dead, even if you don't have a body for it."

"But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt does it?" His eyes was hard, the Corporal façade back on, and you intended to strip him of it. The strong, stoic, cool antics of the soldier was different from the probably insecure, messed up, confused, man underneath the uniform.

He needed a rest.

"At least try to acknowledge that you, as much as anyone who lost someone today, hurt." Your words came in a gently whisper in contrast to the slap on both of his cheeks, forcing him to look at your probably the silliest face he'll ever see you put on.

"Because they matter to you. You can't just pretend everything's fine even if you know at some point they'll leave. It's fine to wish you could do something for them— it's fine to cry and be sorry for yourself— however sappy shit you want to do to deal with the loss..."

"...but don't _ever_ think of _not_ recognizing that you feel something too."

You let his face go, his breathing uneven, deep.

"You can stop being the corporal with me, and just be Levi, Levi."

You held him close, shielding him of the upcoming burst of emotions in each of his still reined breaths.

It didn't take too long until he clutched your clothes too tightly, and you allowed him the privacy of mourning, _with_ him, in your arms.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> The story will be put on hold for a while, as I take my time to read my books, instead of proof reading my stories.
> 
> I still have my academic priorities to think about, and in the span of weeks, I have to prepare for my exams. Although, I will try to update as much as I can in betweens.
> 
> This story started at about... 76 in the Manga I think. As you can tell, I did some pulls and pushes in the story, but I try to stick to the plot of the canon. :)
> 
> Romance in times of war is the hardest to pull off, because it's almost impossible when you can die anytime soon, imagine the relief he felt when he saw reader was alive although wounded, just when he thought he lost everything he holds dear. After all, he sees a future with you.
> 
> Bye for now! See you soon! :)


	26. Getting to Know the Five Years You

The mourning after the expedition consisted of long talks you remembered started on a lighter note about Erwin's eyebrows, and how much it bothered him when Miche sniffed him right after he agreed to join the cause. Then it lingered about giving the injection to Armin. His mumbles inferred that Erwin suffered enough. It was enough that he played the devil this long to secure Humanity's survival, even if the payment was the lives of thousands of their comrades, because no one was willing to do it.

If Erwin was willing to play the devil, he said he was willing to play the mad man to stop this recurring nightmare.

Then it lingered to his subtle inserts of memories of his comrades, especially Petra. You understood why: she was easy to get along, just give it time to let her warm up to you. Despite her nagging, motherly tendencies, she looked after everyone, Levi and Oluo especially. You let him do the talking; this vague, and almost transparent version of him was something he doesn't allow to come out everyday and you intended to free it even if just for sometime. You agreed to most of what he was saying, especially what he was implying with every memory he reminisced:

The dead has it easy.  
The burden of living and carrying on without them were the more difficult tasks.

And at some point, you weren't listening, too busy on wondering if he will be in this same mess if you ever choose to leave.

And you thought seeing him this vulnerable was really pushing it. After all, to be this true and vulnerable _to_ someone comes in rare.

And it hurt to imagine what face he would be making if you leave. There was flattery that he upholds you so dearly, and there's this overwhelming pressure to not leave him.

You almost wanted to tell him you won't go anywhere, and the reason was, even if there's no hope in this recurring nightmare, you wanted to stay, because of him? Probably.

You just keep lying to yourself. You really wanted to stay because of him. But it's too early to tell him. Telling him will be committing to him, and theb what? What comes after? That scares you.

Afterall, you will be leaving a big part of you at home. Can you do that? Surrender everything _for_ _one man_?

_F/N, you've gone mad._

He asked what memory of them stuck to you the most. There were too much to say, you said. Then the dialogue went crazy about his complaints on Hange's body odor and her greasy, probably a week old hair, and his annoyance and subtle insecurity about his height. And then his complaints about teenage rebellion Eren; how his screams works sometimes, but most of the times, don't, about how weak the recruits were, and that they needed so badly the extra training if they want to live.

Then he asked something about you, and your life in your world.

"There's nothing much to know about... _me_." You said, exhaled the last word. You held your cuppa tighter, your eyebrows crinkled of how unsure you should address yourself. "Mostly it's about the things that I know, so I'm not sure how to answer that." You sipped the tea.

"What life do you lead back there?"

"I'm a student, about to graduate, working— well, enslaved to make craft like here, only a little easier because there's these sorts of machines that technically do everything for you." You diverted the dialogue. Hopefully he didn't see how uncomfortable you were about... well, talking about yourself. "How's the easement plan going?" He rumbled on and on. And from one topic to another, no matter how senseless or how deep, you talked. He talked, you listened.

You realized how bitchy he could get once he started to move his mouth.

He talked a _lot_ — complained a lot and you just listened; intrigued that the cool-headed, blunt, and handsome corporal could be so sassy and talkative and cantankerous that he could beat Arianne even when she's drunk. On the second thought, she doesn't even stand a chance.

But that time, he was talking to you as Levi with no title.

Morning came, and the Corporal was needed again.

* * *

You haven't seen anyone from the Survey in weeks, save from Levi's still consistent fetch home schedule, the constant reminder of small snacks, and getting rarer visits while you work at the Factory city, you didn't mind his absence. Actually, as much as you're getting a little tired listening to the scolding of your Levi-appointed unofficial assisitant, it was amusing to see bowl-cut Marlowe can't take his eyes off flirty Hitch, who was overlooking your progress in her day-off. 

Oh you see that tear in the corner of Hitch's eyes alright, when she inadvertently saw Marlowe alive and well as he 'Moblit' you to stop meddling with the blades, while being equally curious as to what the big chunk of metal does. You were supervising the engineers in the Factory city about the know-hows of making blades for the turbine. Yes, proud as you were, you were _trying_ to teach them instead of making blades for the titans, you make blades for thermal electricity generator, and another chunk of this big tank of depressurizer to separate the ice from the natural gas. At first, cutting the production for the blades soured Zackley's and Pyxis' faces, but as Hange argued that it might be better to focus now, and more on their almost desolated land, simply by the reason that they will be fighting the world at this point, technological advancement is a must. And so they agreed.

You felt the pressure.  
Your mind will be a weapon against the world.

"So ma'am, what does this do?" Marlowe asked, not convinced that it will be a good investment rather than producing blades for titan killing. You intended to speak implying that will be more than titans this time.

Oh, you hated this impromptu side of you.

"Oh this? Hmmm," you pondered, _how do you explain this..._ "Basically, at first, it separates the ice from the gas, then this big piece of work right here," you pointed to the draft, your fingers tracing the illustrations in the blueprint, "maintains two things: the hotness that is Hitch, and the coldness that is Marlowe, so we can all get the tension that you so obviously _want_ each other and hopefully, produce the electricity we allll wanted to have!"

Hitch couldn't say a word.   
Marlowe just averted his eyes somewhere else.

"Why, I thought you guys are a thing already?"

"We're not, gosh darn it." Hitch's eyes went to suppressed elation then back to their usual, lazy, flirty composure. "But if Marlowe chased after me, I might reconsider."

You wanted to ask her that what if Marlowe died? Can she even bear that kind of pain? Will her answer stay the same if she knew how fucked up it's going to be from now on? Because Marlowe probably won't break her heart, but the life and circumstances you all live in, _might_.

Considering this _almost_ sure heartbreak, can you give Levi's offer, a chance?

* * *

Hange, now the Commander of the Survey Corps wanted your opinion on something she hasn't really mentioned what, but said that you _have_ to wait for her. And so you did, scribbling away random ideas of urban planning and sewage management, that will have to extend outside Shiganshina. Oh! Oh, of course you have to secure irrigation for crops that will soon have to be planted in the reclaimed land. You made some railroad designs to secure faster transportation of food especially at these winter times...

_It would have been better if I made a copy of the blueprints I gave to the psycho monkey..._

Soon, you were tapped at the back by the more serious Hange, behind her was the Corporal. You didn't even realize you dozed off for quite sometime; your shivering form managed to stay peaceful, probably from the hunger and mental exhaustion, as you slipped back to the bad habits of functioning with watered down coffee.

You can't go home now at this thick winter snow.

And that was how you ended up staying over night in his bedchambers, but it's _not_ the first time anyway. No big deal.

After an argument as to whether he knocks you off and bathe you or he doesn't knock you off and just bathe you, you almost pulled your boots off your foot just to insist how serious you were at the idea that you can and you will endure the aching muscles, throbbing wounds just to scrub yourself clean. _Alone._

"No, you'll reopen your wounds then I have to restitch then again because you're too much of an idiot to worry about these kinds of things."

"Not your body, not your call, Lev." You pouted in furrowed eyebrows, finishing your nibbles in that clumped sticky rice seasoned with salt.

"You think you can clean yourself with those arms? You can't even raise them! You'll get an infection from simple scratches, and you'll die, do you want that?"

You hated how he was making valid points. The sweat, and dust that's sticking to you; it's not that you didn't want anyone to look at your bare skin, heck, Nifa saw your back before in nothing but pants, and Arianne saw you once parading only in your underwear, but she was the only one to see it:

The stab scars in your stomach were something you never want people to see. Too personal. Too intimate. Too shameful. A searing reminder of your negligence, a glaring contrast to how they _see_ you, and _depend_ on you, in this world.

"Just..." you sighed to tell him how much adamant you were at not letting anyone bathe you. You shut your eyes for a brief moment to relieve the exhaustion of today's work, and then you continued to speak. "please don't make me. Anything, but _that_."

"You told me about your friend before, why does it matter now?"

_So much for talking about being himself, when you don't want him to see the ugly truth in you._

You walked off, his provided toiletries in your barely nailed fingers, you rushed in the bathroom but he caught you by the collar of your shirt. You acted like in pain and he eventually let you go, the 'tear' in your eyes worked to ward him off.

Gets anyone, every time.   
But you knew he saw it as a farce.

Soon, you proved him wrong. The bandages kept the stitches from tearing your skin again, and you kept yourself thoroughly clean. It took too much time though.

"Well, at least you're done." He sighed, as he put down his booklet, a cuppa in his fingertips. He stood, eyeing you in his lent gray button down and his aged pants, probably both satisfied and disappointed that it covered more skin that he would want to see. You both looked at the twin-sized bed.

Awkward silence passed and gotten grimmer by the minute.

"So... how do we do this?" You questioned him with your eyebrows— scratch that, you _dared_ him to tell you to sleep on the same bed. It was a thing in the internet that said he doesn't sleep on a bed and just settle on a couch because he doesn't sleep much to begin with, but you wanted to see the answer for yourself. Does he really sleep sitting his ass on a fucking couch? Is that even legally comfortable to begin with? "We sleeping on the same bed...or do you sleep on the couch— I mean, do _I_ sleep on the couch?"

"You take the bed, I'll take the couch."

"You sure? We can snuggle in one bed, you know." You teased him, his eyebrows twitched by the mere suggestion. You saw that uncomfortable, 'about-to-take-a-shit-stone' face, then that awkward, but hell-straight response.

"No, you'll need the space to rest your arms. You can't lay on both of your sides at this point."

"You sure? I might die tomorrow from infection and we haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet." You continued the prying of his personal boundaries, a smug in your face, your knee knelt in the firm, white space, giving it a little bounce. You made sure to add the suggestive wriggling of eyebrows, before you snorted in giggles at his twitching eyebrow, and growling features. When did you become this comfortable with him? Maybe it started when you fitted his gear because you somehow find his straight, no bullshit inputs easy to understand. Or maybe it was because his actions were his language, and that you're so used reading other people's intentions not by their words, but through their actions. Or probably because his unusual way of looking out for you, that you understood him quite a bit now. Or maybe it was because of his constant 'Levi- branded' doting than you usually never find in your world. Because in your universe, saying 'I love you' _without_ the consistent, small accruing acts that heavily supports it, _is_ already love.

But not for you.

In his world, the nightly fetch, the assistance he insists to extend no matter how busy he gets, the way he looks out for you, even the way he assures you to eat— all the little things you can remember and fail to list amounts to something better than the words 'I love you.'

You didn't need that damn words if this was what you're getting in return.

"No-"

"And let's be honest now, we really don't want to sleep alone tonight." You said at a firm tone, bereft of any teasing. "That goes the same for you does it, Lev?"

He stared at you long and hard, seemingly contemplating how to pull off the 'not sleeping on the same bed together but staying in the same room together' plan.

He turned his back to you; you sat down at the corner, waiting for him to execute the same solution you had in mind. He was back, dragging the couch inside, the uncomfortable screeches of its legs would wake up the people near and below his bedchamber.

You felt sorry for the new recruits.

"Happy?" He said, the long couch just adjacent and touching the side of the bed.

"Will do." Your 'meh' reached him. That one pillow served as the divider between you and him, he pulled out another of his fresh blanket and gave it to you, but you insisted to take the used one instead.

"You know if you want me to just join—"

"It's not because I like the scent," _Totally not the reason._ You deluded yourself, "it's just too much hospitality to take the bed _and_ take the fresh blanket too."

"Whatever suits you."

You laid straight as a log, your arms in your sides. Normally you would opt to just sleep in one side, but given how seriously fucked up your arms had been your entire stay in this equally fucked up world, you've gotten quite good at handling the dull ache of your lower hip after. He hopped on the couch, his booklet still in his hands, the cuppa in the nearby makeshift bedside table.

"What are you reading?" You interrupted him. "Couldn't be porn, right?" The position wasn't quite comfortable yet, so you sat up.

"I don't know what that is, but it's not something inappropriate."

"Well, what even is inappropriate?"

"Depends on the context."

"For example?" You said. He put down the book in his lap, his eyes not leaving it as his fingertips reached out in the now lukewarm cuppa.

"I don't know. I've seen abnormal things to consider inappropriate, normal at this point."

"So you see _me_ — this set up as normal?"

"Where did that even come from?" This time he completely let go of the book, his focus now solely on you. "Where do you even find that strength to bitch about your _shitty_ identity crisis? Isn't it just enough you're alive _now_?" Your intention of simple, easy talk became more serious than you wished for.

"Then if you're thinking so much about the present, why are you doing this courting shit like you're so sure we'll have a future?" Your question came too arrogant, but you needed to know that he was thinking. You remembered the things that will occur: you remembered Eren's disappointment when he found out they're not the only surviving Humanity. You remembered Eren's choice of to kill or be killed. You remembered how these handful of men are so willing to die they're not even thinking of the in betweens.

How selfish of them to think that no one will be affected when they're gone. _If_ he's gone.

Because if it were the _coward_ you, you'll want to just drag them in your world and at least, live. And you know all of them will refuse to do so. Giving meanings to deaths, giving meanings to deaths— they said, but what if there's just nothing to it? What if they're just bound to die like how many times you tried to save those who were suppose to be dead, and you just prolonged their stay?

In your world, they'll see the ocean too, they'll have a city life, rural life, beach life— however they want it.

"I don't know the answer to that, runt." His eyes become solemn, straight. _Unsure_. "But would you rather not try at all?"

"Even if you don't see where this is going? You're hurting me, Lev." He looked at you for what it felt like an hour that you had to avert your eyes at how cowardly you sounded. _It's not cowardly,_ you defended yourself. Who would want to stay with a person who is unsure of the future? Would you want to stay if they don't see anything past further than the present? Because you don't. Uncertainty terrifies you, like any sane person would. You just want security, that's all, and this world you're with, was the opposite of all you've wanted.

The highs do not justify what remains when it's gone, and it made your whole being rebel at the thought that even if you want to see where this goes, you know it's going nowhere.

At least not in this world, or this lifetime.

"How much more?" His voice brought you back to reality.

"What-"

"I'm asking you what it takes for your skeptical ass to believe that my intentions are good."

"I'm not asking you if your intentions are good or not. I'm asking you if you see where this is going because if I would be willing to do this— whatever this is, it better go somewhere, Lev. I work everyday because I have a vision in mind. But this? Lines shouldn't be blurry by how much I want to kiss you because that's not the end game." You exhaled, you're still not done. It probably was too much for the both of you to handle in one day, but the thought that in the succeeding days and years you will be with them, you wanted reason to stay.

Going home didn't appeal to you more and more, and if you're going to stay here, there better be a good reason to.

"Why? Do I also need saving from you soon? Do you also see me dying that's why you piss yourself? I don't know how everything's going to turn out— I _never_ do, runt. I'm not a weird nine lives alien like you," he let out a short, inaudible sigh, his features serious and impatient. And even so, there was _sincerity_ in them.

You're speaking with _just_ Levi, like how you plead him to be when he's with you, and he was quick to detach himself from the Corporal, to this man. You wondered, how many of his comrades saw this? You don't know. Did he ever allow himself to be seen as he is?

"but this is the _best_ I can give you _right now_. It's not much and it's shabby, and I can't blame you if you feel defenseless as fuck in here." He paused, you noticed he was pressing the pages of his booklet too tightly. "But that's on you, decide whether to leave or not."

And it seemed like you forgot, the just Levi has practically nothing to offer and how dare you mock him of his lacking.

My God, it dawned to you that were practically demanding him now to give you everything he's been fighting for, and the most basic thing you have in your world. He can't feed you something you don't even know yourself— you don't know how this ends because it hasn't ended yet.

_How selfish of you._

"I just want a reason to stay, Levi."

"I'm showing you what I have. You decide that yourself."

"I know. I just realized that, I'm sorry."

"So?" Your eyes snapped at him in surprise. He's looking at you, as if he was waiting for something...

"You wanted me to decide now?"

"At some point you have to. You have my lifetime to do that." He reached out for head to ruffle, as if telling you he took no offense of this little argument. You were scared of uncertainty, it was a legitimate reason to worry. But you can't tell him to hurry up and make you feel safe just so you can make a decision. You knew the risk of coming here, but it took you a first hand experience to realize you already chewed more than you can handle.

"But don't take too long, runt."

"Hmm."

The only light source, you discovered, was something he always kept on, to guard himself off the night. But this time, he kept only one of them, as if he knew you can't sleep with it. He laid in the bed length sofa, the boundary of the pillow was futile to keep your hands off from searching his.

"So you want to kiss me-"

"Shut up and sleep, Lev." You saw him close your eyes; he allowed you entwine your fingers with his.

"But probably." You said, and you can feel his shock staring at you. It's not long when you felt another weight pressed the bed, and his looming figure about to sit up and reach for your face.

"Go to sleep!" You threw the pillow in his face, earning you a _tch_ as he withdrew in the sofa.

From entwining your fingers to full touching of your forearms, both of you surrendered to exhaustion and calm howling of the wind outside. 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I had sometime so I thought I'll update. :)
> 
> I don’t know if you noticed this, but in the first chapters, reader was eager to introduce genius herself, because that’s what she can do. Her genius was like a brand she wore everytime, and now it has been pushed to limits, (technology from scratch? Saving recruits?) the brand she identified for herself is crumbling apart. The Reader, not the genius reader that people see, is just... unsure. Cowardly. Sensitive. Thoughtful. 
> 
> I don’t know if you noticed that. 
> 
> And then Here comes handsome Levi who is honest with her, all the way... and that? That shit’s scary because she doesn’t know how to do the same. Anywaaaay... 😂
> 
> Tell me what you think! But feel like she has an answer already. 
> 
> See you soonest again!


	27. Decision

"Hange?" You knocked at your former superior. She wasn't doing her usual gadgetry and experimentations in her office, the glimmer in her eyes now just a small glint of what? You have no idea, but it wasn't hope.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes, but I won't be looking at you, so please just speak."

"Is it about the generator?" you pursed your lips, "If it is, it's not working..." she looked at you, shadowed face, exhausted eyes.

"It has to work, F/N. Make it work."

"I can make something small first, but the big ones, I can't. We can't yet. I'll have to use the reserves for the blades too. And even if I do, it's still not enough. Besides, we are also in need of copper. We just have alloy and iron ore."

"What do you suggest?"

"We can start small; just enough to run something in the corps, if it works, and we have more resources than now, we can make a bigger version of it."

"But it can't take too much time."

"I know, and about wall Maria..." you gave her the blueprint of the Executioner from Hell. You saw the surprise, then the deciphering look in her face. "It will require Eren's Hardening. It won't use humans to kill titans. There's no danger for humans, so here, close wall Maria soon." You smiled apologetically, bits of frustration seeping from the microgaps of your teeth. "Every details are in that draft and the manual it comes with. You can call me if you have other questions."

She was looking at you, the glimmer now back, the smile warm.

"F/N, if it wasn't for the contract, would you help us?"

"What kind of question is that?" You can't help but raise an eyebrow. "I joined the corps because I wanted to help and I wanted to go home, remember? That was the bargain." Hange's hands stopped moving. Her shoulders leaned and attended to your direction.

"You're not in the corps anymore, yet you insist to come in the expeditions. You told us you came from a land not from this world, and we have no doubts about it now that we know humans exist outside the walls..." her eyes drifted somewhere, and she continued.

"You make these kinds of things like you know what we need, and you come and go, prepared as if you know something is going to happen..."

"I can't put you in a cell and torture you because you're a civilian now, and I don't want to cross Levi on this... but F/N," Her words were eating you alive, but the inevitability that one day you will have to tell them was a detail you already forgot, given that Levi and Miche kept it for themselves...

You thought you're safe.  
Wrong.

But if you can't even tell them something that will keep them safe, then what in the fuck are you even doing here? For days of not seeing Levi or the corps, it was a question that chewed you alive as you fumbled with the defective portal in your skirt pocket.

"do you know what's going to happen to us in the future?" 

* * *

"do you know what's going to happen to us in the future?"

You didn't know your breathing was labored until Hange went over to you that she gave you a chair to sit on.

"tell us what you know, F/N, _please_. Unless we have information about the enemy, only then we get to do something about this hopeless case." Her voice was louder, demanding. The gestures of her hand landed to yours.

You met her eyes and nowhere was the happy-go-lucky Hange who wished to capture titans in the early days of your military career. There was desperation in them, also one that rivaled the hope in her glassy eyes.

"I thought I could get away with this question if I tried to work on detaching myself while I try to help on the shadows," you sighed, buying yourself sometime to weigh the options.

No, fuck the options.

Maybe you're not thinking straight now. No, you _tried_ thinking straight, but it gave you the false hope that you were saving someone, while in the end the timeline carries on like an arrogant, omniscient king who gave no fuck about his people. You _tried_ to think straight but it just made you uncertain of yourself and turned you to this degenerate second-tier who only whines because she can't do a damn job of making their lives better.

_You can't save everyone._ Was what Levi said.   
Then how about saving everyone _by_ everyone?

Maybe it's arrogant for you to tell them this is going to happen— that is going to happen, that you will ruin the story as how it was told, but you're done playing the silent Messiah. If it hurt to read about their deaths, then how do you think about witnessing their deaths first hand?

So you're done playing the genius. Fuck the story, you're going to fight the course of things today, and this time, you will not be on your own.

"but yes, I will tell you what I know." It took you the biggest sigh in your life.

"Hange, listen carefully." You heard her gulp, and you told her:

No more titans beyond wall Maria in a few months.  
Visitors from Marley will come by next year.

"And one more thing."

"W-What? There's more?"

"Look after Eren. He's impulsive at times, and he will act according to what he strongly believes." 

* * *

She kept pestering you of the whys and hows of your story's credibility to the point that she didn't want you to leave.

But you can't tell her. How can you?

_Your story is a past time in my world._   
_Your story is a hot topic on reddit._   
_Your story is something we buy for 40 dollars per box set in Barnes and Noble._   
_You guys are characters in a story I am so hyped for._   
_People call your ship LeviHan._

"Lay off, Hange." Levi leaned in her office doorway. He uncrossed his arms and walked inside, the Corporal's icy glare was on.

"L-Levi, we need to plan ahead! We will have to intercept and communicate with them so everything will stop! We can salvage this! If F/N's information is true, we can arrange correspondence with them and convince them to sign a treaty, it might stop!"

"That can wait for tomorrow."

"It can't! We have to-"

"The runt's sniffing blood."

"Oh."

Levi walked into your slumped form, you covered your nose with the little mobility you have; your back leaned in resignation to burnout, your eyelids as heavy as it ever been. It wasn't only Hange that required your hands-on attention for the past couple of weeks. After the battle in Shiganshina, you immediately had to prepare for the repopulation of the would be reclaimed land— to the citizens, it only required the packing of things and going back. But to you? The military and a 15 year old queen had no clue about urban planning and development. So who do you think it's gonna be? The garrison had no clue unless it's flairing the cocktail.

The entire planning, public bidding to merchants, negotiating and assisting them to prevent possible mishaps on the acquisition of materials were entirely given to you. Let's not mention that you're single-handedly managing and engineering the extension of irrigation and waste disposal to Shiganshina from Sina to the Underground city.

Also, you're perfecting the thunder spears so it won't damage the user's limbs. You and Mikasa knew by experience how it hurt— just look at the still healing wounds in your arms.

Then there's this annoying junk of metal Levi called 'generator of bullshit' because it won't fucking work.

You already made a draft of their new suit, just in case they will be needing it sooner than you'll think.

Then there's this glowing portal for days you have no idea why.

"S-Sorry, F/N. Did I push you too hard?"

"It's fine." You said, taking Levi's offer of hanky. "We have to fix inside the walls before you guys can venture outside, but I think that's the plan for now."

"Yes, yes." She said enthusiastically, Hange's charm back in her face. "We have to reclaim wall Maria first thing, then we'll conduct our 58th Expedition after."

You didn't realize you were clutching Levi's hand with your free ones, his attached to your shoulder and yours warming his fingers. You looked at him, at peace with yourself, he can see a planted smile in your lips if it weren't for his now bloody handkerchief. He let the connection stay, given Hange was the only audience, but you saw something in his eyes; something other than the cold irritation default in his face.

"Hange," his eyes were tacitly asking by pulling his ranking and friendship to the commander to let you stay for tonight.

"Yes, of course. But Levi?" He was waiting for her to talk.

"Can I talk to her tonight a little more?"

"No-"

"It's okay, I'll come soon and stay." The threats under his lit features stood out more darkly when he looked at you. He understood you will come around, as you gave his hand a hard squeeze to let him know that you meant it.

"Go." Your smile reached your tired eyes, and he fired back by a hard look and a squint that lasted longer than a few seconds. His deliberations once over, only you and Hange occupied the room.

"If you can't tell how you came to know this, at least we have to know _why_ you choose to tell us now. Why not earlier? Why did you have to wait all this time if we could've managed to save someone? Everyone?"

This was the part that you didn't want to them to pry. It hurt too much.

Their corpses, as you talked, haven't decomposed to the bones yet, and as fresh as their bodies laid in the ground, was as fresh as the hate and emptiness they left.

See? The dead had it easy.

"Hange, I have my reasons of not telling anyone, and believe me when I tell you, I tried everything I could to prevent them from going away, and I did, Hange— _I did_." You kneeled in front of her, meeting her crying features as you let the pain by her tight clutch rule your fingers. You were willing to accept a simple punishment such as this.

Hange and Levi and the rest of the corps deserved this much comfort, if not more.

"I thought I did, but I can only give them more time— Marco, Miche, Nanaba, Erwin, Petra, Oluo, Eld, Gunther, Nifa... I thought I could saved them all from harm in my own way, because that time that they should've... I prevented it, but Hange, _I can't_. At least not on my own."

"You could've told us sooner."

"I know. But how will that work out for me? I've been tortured the minute you found out my modified gear when all I wanted was to save Marco. Not telling you a thing was _my_ wrong, and I know I can't pay you back with a simple sorry, but _at least_ try to recognize that I'm trying to get back by helping you of the only way I can."

"No," Hange said, tears marked her cheek. Never can a single word made your stomach sink. The clutch in your hand was replaced by soothing warmth, as she took her time to look at your apologetic, remorseful features, the churning in your stomach undid itself.

"There's no telling how everything will play out if you tell us sooner, and we doubt we could've believed you by then. But if you're telling us the truth, then you gave us more time with them."

You didn't mind the body odour, or the greasy hair that Levi was bitching before, because all that there was, was the warmth in Hange's embrace.

"We can't bring them back, but what you did, I am thankful." She released you, her hands held your shoulders; back in her eyes were determination to end the war just brewing to start.

"This time, you have to tell us what you know, so we can end this."

"Hmm."

"One more thing before you go."

"Yeah?"

"Let me warn you as a friend," she said, the warm aura of the room got sucked back in your gut by the minute she uttered the foreword.

"Levi is a soldier, all of us here are. We can die anytime, F/N. If he's the reason why you're sticking around, what will happen if he goes?"

"I don't know," you said, as honest and straight as Levi taught you. "but I do know he's enough to make me _stay_."

You heard a soft thud like someone was leaning by the door, followed by silent footsteps. It wasn't a hard guess as to who that was.

"You better get going." Hange said, smirking while she helped you get back to your feet. "Levi doesn't like to wait."

"Yeah," you sighed month's worth of weight in your shoulders. You knew another talk was due in his bedchambers, and yet you felt... good, despite the nose bleed and the burnout. At this point, you're used to trembling fingers powered by caffeine, wobbly knees at getting to places, that even Marlowe lost some weight.

"But he knows the wait's over."

***  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.
> 
> I know it took sometime, but please, bear with my situation right now. 🥺
> 
> I have three reasons, aside from the upcoming exams:
> 
> 1\. I had to wait for the 133, because I was so scared of the upcoming chapters that it might dampen this fic's ending, so I had to wait.
> 
> 2\. I wrote 5 versions of this chapter, because I was rereading AT timeline and its chapters so it can fit.
> 
> 3\. There're 2 versions of the ending. One that is not a happy one, (no, MC does not die.) or the other one. Tell me which you prefer, after all, we're down with 3 more chapters.
> 
> Ciao bella!


	28. Pure, Unadulterated Truth

"Hi." You childishly peeked at Levi's door and you immediately noticed heaviness hanging in the air even if you haven't soaked your whole body yet in the dampened mood.

You walked towards him; his aristocratic stance and badassery slumped on the couch, an arm dangling over the back rest. His neck hanged low, but angled towards your exhausted, pitiful form. At this time of night, aside from the known routine that he never goes out after he takes a bath, was a cup of tea or _teas_ , last time you came to visit. Only that this time, no tea was served.

He won't let you stay long enough to sip a cup if the talk doesn't go well.

"Is something wrong..?" You trailed off, gulping the last of your throat's moisture. Talks made you nervous, but talks with Levi? It made you scared. You have a reason to be, not because he broke your wrist in the past, but because you know that if he decided to change his mind, that will be the last of it. "I know you were listening a while ago." You closed the door, and stayed in a safe distance; a foot preemptively pointing at the door's direction in case the talk goes to shit.

"So you're clairvoyant from the future huh? You praise walls too?"

"You know I'm not." Your response was meek as you look at your tangled fingers. He was waiting for further elaboration; an elaboration you can't give him even at your nails' expense. "I'm just... I just came from another world, that's all there is to it."

"Care to tell me how you came across ours? This shithole isn't exactly a tourist spot."

"I'm aware." You tucked your hair behind your ear, the yellow tie loosening its grip to your bundle of strands. You can't bring yourself to look at him, but you can picture the exact face he was making by his tone while he probed the truth out of you. There was a hint of anger just starting to get to a good boil in every syllable, and you understood why.

"Then why d'you come here for? Pity? Boredom? Did it make you flip your shit seeing us get eaten up for breakfast?" His remark started mockful. His steel eyes matched the weather these days; his long, dark eyelashes batted lazily like he couldn't care less. But you know it wasn't the case.

"Levi, does it even matter now when I already decided to stay?" You spoke softly due to the raging headache you're having, accounted from the exhaustion that kept you awake and at the mercy of caffeine. He didn't try to comfort you like he always do and you didn't expect him to do so. You found the strength to walk towards him; now braving it out to kneel in front of him, your muscles volunteered to observe closer on what face he was making.

"Then would it matter if I wanted you to leave?" He paused, the string of impatience thinning by the sound of his next words. He uncrossed his legs, and by mere inches he failed to swing a kick in your face, not that he intended to.

"You can't come here and point your fingers— she's gonna die, he's gonna go next, so let's play the hero because it's _so_ fun." A controlled anger simmered then placid, like he was _torn_ between taking out the rage in his unfounded accusation that your presence brought the deaths of many, and the seemingly strong _but hazy_ relationship you both forged.

"That's not why I came here for—"

"Then **what?** Because now I'm thinking not to give a pig's shit if you bleed to death or deport your lying ass back to what hell you came from if you came here and point who d'you like to die next!" He ducked your head by a grasp of your hair, and your knees immediately gave out.

"We're not Mitras special menu, fucking runt-"

"I'm not one to decide who's it gonna be, and I _know you know_ that already!" He hasn't let go of the bundle that was your hair; you fought his grip to meet his deranged eyes and rebel in the angle he forced you to be in.

You get it, he was looking for an outlet to the rage.  
But you can't tolerate being a punching bag either.  
Not for the _second_ time.

The yellow lace he gave you loosened completely and now tangled in his fingers, he let go of your hair, like he remembered that his accusation from rage and frustrations over their deaths in exchange for unimpressive achievements, _hurt you_ _too_.

"Because if you _didn't_ , you wouldn't let me loose and trust me to save them, would you?" You said, as calmly as you could between your rugged breaths. You attempted to fix the now tangled strands; the whimpers of pain by the sudden yank at the back of your throat.

"Because if you _didn't_ , you wouldn't even _dare_ entertain the idea of planning a future with me, would you?" You said in a more soothing whisper, aware of the turbulence of emotions and his attempt to keep them altogether. You met his still angry eyes, and the more you stared back, the more his eyes got drunk with remorse. You didn't know how many minutes had passed until you held on to his thighs in an attempt to stabilize yourself. He helped by wrapping his fingers around your forearm, the other in the small of your back. You settled in kneeling in front of him between his thighs, his hands unnecessarily remained in the last places they touched. The remorseful expression gone, in his eyes now desperation. _Pleading_.

"Then what made you come here?" You noticed the slow, throaty restrain in his voice.

"Let's not talk about-" you felt the grip in your forearm tighten, and you wondered where he was going with this.

_Oh. Because you weren't being fair._

He allowed you to see the ugliest of him, the worst he could do to you, and that little hope you know might fade in but in return, you gave nothing but the _one sided acceptance_ that you deserved all the assistance he's giving you. Sure, you gave him what he needed-- but you haven't given him something that he _could_ trust _of_ you. You never gave him an opportunity to know you. You left some parts out of the picture because you can't tell him that their struggles and frustrations were _entertainment_ in your world, but it's not a good reason to let him hang on your every word, or challenge him to read the language of your body because apart from the genius stereotype they threw at you, you don't even have the slightest idea how you to look at yourself.

And it _intimidated_ you, that as tragic and monochromatic his life had been, yours was even more dull.  
A blank canvass just starting to get its colors.

"Levi, _I_ have no idea how to give you what you're asking of me." You whispered in between breaths.

"Then try. Ugly, bad— anything." He released the touch in your back, "It's better than not having an idea at all." and it found its new place in the hollows of your cheeks. You looked at him in the eyes like how wanted you, and you decided to burn him of the very first thing he wanted to know.

_"...if he's the reason why you're sticking around, what will happen if he goes?"_

"First, _I_ came here for the thrill of it. Second, you're not realin my world, Levi."

You inhaled for strength, as you yourself can't stomach the degradation of your own words.

"All of you, and all of these. Not real, _just_ a story, at least in my world."

The first seconds didn't sink in yet, then slowly, until the thought completely devoured him.

His grip loosened, then tightened again, and this time, you removed yourself between him, your feet asleep with all the kneeling, you struggled to walk until the doorknob clicked on your exit.  
  
  


* * *

Ironically, Levi's squad was your convoy in conducting your ocular inspection in Shiganshina district. Along with his now bigger squad— a mixture of fresh recruits and the teenage veterans, they accompanied you while you walk around to plan how to urbanize the still blood tainted land.

Thank goodness the snow covered it well.

"Seven meter class approaching, on the right!"

"On it!"

You tried to busy yourself with making notes and illustrations only you can understand, and you can't fathom the professionalism he was showing despite what truth you said to him. And you? You look like a cornered duck.

"Oi, F/N where do you need to go from here?"

"I uh..." You acted busy with the notes, feeling awkward to meet his gaze. "I have to look at the eastern wall... and we can go back." Your eyes darted _everywhere_ — well, for the record, that's how an ocular inspection goes-

"Oi." You still pretended to be busy.

"Oi runt," You also did that ahem-the-awkwardness -away-cough, but he was still pulling you closer by your hair.

You let them flow today because you didn't have anything to tie it with.

"You're stepping on a lung, you'll dirty your shoes."

"Ah, thanks." You heard his mannerism, and your eyes were better off looking at someone else's lung than to look at his face. "We can go back now."

"You got what you need?" He completely faced you, your eyes now casted downwards, fingers busy flipping the pages of your notebook. You walked past him to get to the horse, and you felt his stare boring a hole in your back.

You're not mad at him— you have no reason to be. Instead, you feel undeserving of his honesty with you when you can't even give the same right back. How do you even answer a question of 'How's your life back there?' Because for days of swollen eyes, lethargy and a little weight gain, you came up with the realization that the answer to this question is not about how your work was doing, or if you have a doctorate or not.

Levi was asking you of _you_. Just you without the genius trope and the higher-than-wall expectation from your parents.

He wasn't asking you of your long line of achievements, and he had been thoughtful to ask you of something you have _no idea_ how to answer.

He made you aware that you're _lacking_ something.

And how cruel of you that the first truth you said to him was how fucked up your reason coming here.

You noticed the remoteness of his squad members.   
The quiet, cold winter.   
And maybe you're being hypersensitive about everything, but it felt like the privates were deliberately leaving you and Floch alone...

You struggled to get to Marlowe's horse, as much as it made you uncomfortable of your wounds healing, the doctor said due to the extent and constant injuries of your arms, full recovery of strength in them was out of the window.

"M-Ma'am F/N..."

"Hi, Floch, care to boost me up?"

"About that..." he was hesitant at saying something, "can you please not ride Marlowe's horse..."

"I rode with him when we came here." You reasoned out, noticing most of the privates were back clumping together to get back to their horses. _Why are they making that face..?_

"Is something wrong? You guys look like you're about to take a shit." You said, and you realized how 'Levi' you just sounded right now. "Did your captain say something?"

He dragged you back down, careful not to cause a grave to your healing injuries; it was weird, he kept looking left and right as if he was looking out for something. Titans were still rampant in Shinganshina at this point but it just didn't make sense that all of them were wary as if something like the Armored or colossal titan's going to show up.

"Floch, hurry the fuck up!"   
"Fuck Floch, talk to her!"   
"Come on, this isn't your 2 minute rendezvous with the bar girl! Faster!"

And they were talking in harsh whispers.

"Flo—"

"Please get back with Sir Levi, please!" It was certainly a surprise.

"We can't take the more brutal training in this winter ma'am! I know we joined the corps and we should be strong, but his training regimen is far more brutal than the one we have in the training corps!"

"Floch," realization struck you, "I'm pretty sure it's not a case of bullying. He told me all of you should get stronger so you won't um, wimp in the battlefield..."

"It's making us crazy at this point!"

"It's not the case—"

"We know you had a fight with him, so _please_ , try to appease him! We can't take any more of this! It's nothing personal against you ma'am, but if you're going to sleep with him, at least try to keep it that way and keep him happy!"

"Excuse me?" Now you're angry. You dropped your hands in your sides, but they were itching to be crossed in your bosom. "You know, I fought the same war as you did didn't you? Sure, I didn't play the fodder but I had my fair share of nightmares too. Nothing personal against you kid, but instead of whining like the cry baby, don't you think it's just your mindset that's shit?"

"Floch stop, captain's gonna come here any sec—"

"Shut up, Marlowe! I know all of you think so too right? He was pushing us to be stronger, but this harassment started when we saw F/N came out from his room 2 weeks ago! It's not a coincidence! It's not making us stronger, this is him not getting his nut juice sucked out, and now he's taking it out on us!"

And you can see the trademark undercut and the height approaching in your periphery. The announcement of his arrival came from the scampering of the privates to take the farthest distance away from the confrontation, but you can guess he was listening long enough in the roof.

"Not an information I would usually disclose but sorry if I haven't kissed her pretty ass yet." He strode with the length of his legs, the subtle sway of his hips as he approached closer.

Damn he looked majestic.

"But instead of bitchin' around, go and start a life as farmer," He walked past you, his back was sure a sight to cure sore eyes, and the familiar smell of soap and Iris engulfed your senses once more.

"Potatoes are better than seeing you die doing agility training anyway."

Silence.

"Anyone have a problem with my training?" No response. You moved to Marlowe's horse, the young bowl-cut soldier hesitantly assisted your struggle to climb the tall, gentle creature. "Ma'am, you should ride his horse..."

"I don't want to Marlowe."

"He's glaring at me ma'am."

"That's all you're going to get."

"Oi, runt." Levi called out, "You're riding with me." You didn't want to cause commotion any further, and given his professionalism towards you whenever you conduct the ocular inspections, you gave in without anymore of your petty, childish 'nos'.

And of course, his horse always treated your hair like haystack.

"Hey, Levi stop him, he's eating my hair again!" You can see a tinge of warmth in his eyes that was gone as fast as you saw it.

"Stay still." You noticed how silent the privates had been, and you can tell they were watching the unintentional skit playing infront of them. As soon as his horse stopped chewing your hair, he grabbed your waist, a little disappointed that the assistance was cut too short than you would have wanted.

Well, not until his chest touched your back as the horses galloped back to Trost.  
  
  


* * *

It was nearing the end of reading all the bureaucracy papers for the Shiganshina project that Hange insisted again that you stayed over. Munching on the military ration and your third cup of coffee with the iceburst stones as your makeshift lamp, you gave your hip a little stretch, arching your back for another sleepless night.

"Ice cream would be nice..."

"What's an ice cream?" Levi had always been a short sleeper, as canon says. He descended with a tray of tea, one cup which meant only for him.

"Um, it's a cold and sweet food back home."

"At this type of weather?"

"Yes." You cut your sentences short, getting defensive at the impending confrontation about your walk out a few weeks ago. The tension in the air hang was too sticky that it strangled your breathing shorter. "Do you need something from me?"

"Another talk where you don't walk out?"

"I just gave what you asked from me, Levi. The truth."

"Silly. If you're here that means we're real aren't we?"

"Exactly. So I don't get it why you needed to know. It's just how my world sees all of you." You dropped the papers, his face, now that you gave him your full attention, had a hint of amusement glowing in his eyes. Was your torment for the couple of weeks fun for him? Sure, your fault at that time, with your messed up reason of coming here, but what can you do? You gave him what he wanted despite your warnings and you walk out thinking that he needed the time to internalize what you just said.

"Well? I thought I gave you enough time to think."

"And I don't know why you thought I'd get butt hurt of your grand reveal." He shifted his stance in to a more lax position, while he sipped his tea. "It's not shocking, we've been called worse. Though your reason for coming here's messed up. How d'you like your arm?"

_Am I overthinking everything until now?_

"Levi shouldn't you be a little more—"

"Angry? If you thought the same as them, I will be. Seeing you don't, helping us and all, then I don't have reason to be."

"Then why didn't you talk to me-"

"Because I like the _thrill_ of seeing you squirm." _Is he flirting?_

"Oh, fuck you."

"Now? You're jumping on the bone too fast, haven't even kissed you yet."

The fluorescent glow from the stones made him paler, the contours of his face emphasized the sharp as blades jawline that was a little tighter than usual, and it just made you realized how sexually charged and seemingly frustrated was your simple insult had been.

And yet, your eyes were roaming _shamelessly_ around his chest to the bulge of his pants.

_He's not a piece of meat._ Oh look at you doing it again.

_You're just tired dear, you need a rest._

"Hm, it doesn't have to be in order, does it?" He sipped the last of his trail in his cup.

"I like the traditional ways if you care to know."

"Would getting you home be a start?"

You sighed, bringing you back to reality of reading the voluminous papers you have to finish in weeks time. "I can't, Hange, Garrison and Factory police need these by the end of the month."

He sat closer now, his signature scent drowning you. He started reading the documents, while scribbling a list in an unused paper.

"What are you doing?"

"Writing the gist so you know whether to sign it or not." You looked at him so closely beside you. How can he be _so_ _accepting_? This ate you for years on end to the point that you even didn't want to get closer to anyone. But him? You gave him a few weeks and not an insult about their existential crisis. No, no it can't be this simple, he must have something else going on...

"Levi, aren't you being a little too lenient? I said all of you aren't real, this, _all of these_ I came to know all these because I've read the story—"

"Is the story over yet?" The simple, heavy question made you hesitate.

"N-No."

"Then you still don't know how it's going to end. It's not exactly comforting, but it's fine with me. Also,"

"What?"

"At least I get to know something, you always say half baked shit whenever I ask." He just proved what you suspected. He ruffled your hair, tugged them to an angle and just like that, he gave you a deep, _almost_ unmoving kiss.

Awkward and _so_ unexpected, the kiss wasn't exactly graphic or sensual like what you've read in historical romance genre back in the days but...

"You have a deadline don't you?" He cleared his throat, but he was as fazed as you were, although he hid it better than you did. "Get moving, kisses aren't going to solve this problem." He was back at his usual cold self.

...it was enough for you to forget everything right there and then, shallowed breaths, curled toes, and all.

"R-Right." You moved closest, awkwardly returning the favor back, while shakily gripping the collar of his shirt, _missing_ his lips. Your eyes closed shut, and you can hear the soft chuckles in the corner of his mouth.

"Virgin." And he did it again, properly, this time.

Longer.  
Deeper.   
Sweeter.

"Keep the comments to yourself thank you very much."

"I didn't say I don't like it though." He gave you one more in the corner of your mouth, and he returned to the chair adjacent to you, the papers back screaming for attention.

In a few more hours, the dawn will break and the days will have to carry on as it should be.

Just that, something as quiet as his kisses made it loudly different.   
  
  


***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii!
> 
> Long chapter, I know. I'm sorry.
> 
> In the first part, Levi hurting reader, please don't tolerate physical assault from anyone. Violence isn't a given when loving someone. Like reader, she knew this, and so should anyone who thinks love comes with hurt.
> 
> It's just that, Levi's pretty messed up in the head, and adjusting to fluff might take in a little more lessons than taking someone's head.
> 
> We're still on the post-Shiganshina arc, where they focused on eradicating titans inside the wall.
> 
> Also, most of you guys seems to like the other one, so that's what I'm going to post, but as a compromise to the anon who said they preferred the not so happy one, I will post it in the author's notes instead.
> 
> I'll be writing the next chapter now, so wait a little bit okay? Thank you for sticking up even with the late updates. :)


	29. Re-evaluate

From lingering stares... or should you say glares, to the kisses that still felt recent in your memory, you travelled back to your very first encounter with him: that time where he told you how disgusting you were on your period, back in training corps.

_Does he even remember that? Nah, I doubt it, he'll probably remember me singing in the Disbanding ceremony._

"Time to go runt," he said, while you staggered out of your bedroom and sit in front of your _irori_ after a pampering, well-deserved 12-hour rest. It took quite a few more months to patch the damages of the post-Shiganshina war, and all of the paving of roads, irrigation and waste disposal now gone out of the way, what remained were the generator and their suits.

"When did you arrive? It's still dark outside. We go by 8, right? Pretty early." You yawned, practically dragging your feet to get closer to warmth.

"It's warmer in here."

"Says the walking heater." He helped himself of your tea; donuts and fruits he brought before coming to your house. You clung unto his back for warmth, and you heard his now staple _Tch, don't do that._ all the while taking your forearm so you can sit between his legs.

"Warm enough?"

"Hmm."

"Came to recheck your arms before we go." He whispered in your ear, while you helped yourself of the fruits he brought with him. "You don't need to come with us, take more rests."

"I'm fine. I had too much rests already. There won't be much titans outside, you're worrying over nothing."

"But there _are_ titans. Loose the shirt, gotta see if—"

"Now you're making excuses to score one from me."

"Not even in my head," he whispered as he breathed in your nape in the mask of leaning forward to get his tea, "but now it does." You heard him sipped and other sounds that suggested him drinking, and all while him doing so, you were thinking of something else making the same, sloppy, watery sounds. "And the idea's not bad."

_Fuck, nope._

You removed yourself away from him, beyond uncomfortable of the _memory_ that the first time both of you attempted to do the dirty, you played the card of that awkward, skinny hentai chic who kept on yelling for time out. In the end of the supposed foreplay, (which was you being ticklish and yelling 'stop' or 'wait' every 10 seconds) you slept together without doing the actual dirty, insides painfully throbbing, nipples as hard as a nail head. You could even recall how he tossed and turned for a few minutes until you decided to face his side of the bed to grip the hem of his shirt, and snuggled closer to him.

It wasn't a bad note for such a tragic beginning, but it was deliciously uncomfortable to feel his length poking your ass when he told you to turn around and sleep it off.

He wore a smug in his face, eyelashes batted lazily while he peered at you, observing the extent of 'damage' he had done with just a few words. He waited for you to get dressed; donuts, fruits and coffee in standby, and so were tapes and bandages you didn't need anymore.

"You're over reacting, Lev."

"There's no over reacting when you're as easy as a twig to break." You sighed, thinking he will not let the argument go, and so you stripped the shirt, camisole for your modesty.

"See? It's just the scars now." You observed him examine your arms, flexing and unflexing, constantly asking if something felt weak at some points, and all were answered in the negative. "Told you."

Barely satisfied, he moved on to his second fix of cuppa, waiting again for you to button them all. He seemed to challenge you on a staring contest, one that you never won against him, and this was another of your countless loss. He really didn't want you to go.

"I'll be fine." You cupped his face to force him to look at you, again wearing that agitated expression. "You're worrying over nothing. Didn't you teach me to worry when it comes?"

"Never taught you that."

"Aww, shy."

"Tch."

You settled to assemble your old gear, the scabbard for the blades you modified to be lighter.

In the past few months of winter, the doctors said your arms won't be fully recovered. By a good chance of diligence in muscle training and good nutrition, it might make do of 70%, but seeing you didn't have the athletic prowess even after the training corps, it might even be less than that. You assured Jean and Sasha, and Marlowe and Levi that things were going well, but it was the opposite.

The best you can lift was one solid wooden chair, or 2 chair monoblock.

But you're getting better, you tried to convince yourself, despite the usual whispers of Privates of how useless you were in helping things out.

Jean dared them to go on an expedition with a rope to swing themselves on, telling them that the gear they were wearing was an 'innovation from her great mind'.

Then Levi upped their training, adding 10 more 'titan napes' to slice in 10 minutes.

Mind you, the Privates went frantic, and so did you.

Levi pushed you to do simple arm exercises, he's even giving you eggs and meat, on top of your usual meals. You thought he wanted you to get some flesh on your bones, and your stomach can only handle so much.

Then the arm exercises became body weight exercises, Armin thought Mikasa can help and so even with your crippling insecurity of her six pack, you managed to have like an 11 line in torso.

_Oh look at the tight booty._

But still, the arms remained at 70%.

You entwined your equally calloused fingers and palms; him by the 3DMG, you by the wrench and pencils. You gave him a quick massage in that muscle between the thumb and the wrist, an inhale in his lips then his eyes became a little tender.

"You got what you need?" He asked.

"Yeah," you looked at at him, "oh, actually no." you landed a small peck in his lips.

"Yep, got everything."

It took him a moment to internalize what you did, until he shook his head, amusement once again danced momentarily in his eyes. 

* * *

"Looks like that's the titans inside wall Maria were Just about all of them. Looks like we've culled most of them in only a year."

"Let's head to our objective!" Said Hange.

Everyone single one of the veterans had a different expression on their faces; Eren, especially. Gone was the childish wander in his eyes, replaced by half-lid, half-dead expression, the concern of his friends were given.

Everyone else, especially the new recruits that survived Shiganshina were on edge.

You rode on the rear center, the safest place for weaklings like you. The 57th expedition formation wasn't adopted this time, as Hange trusted your words that there won't be much titans left surrounding the outside the walls.

Gallops of the horses and a few more stops to rest, Eren spoke: "We're close, I'm sure of it. This is where Eldians were turned into titans."

A wall booming in all of your faces, past it was the gentle whoosh of the waves.

You rode closer, even without permission.

"Oi!"

You can smell the salt in the air, the sticky, yet cool spring breeze, you let them take it the scenery...

Silence, at awe.

You can't help it, alright?

"IT'S THE MOTHERFUCKIN' OCEAN!" You descended to the beach, waves splashing softly as you hurried to remove your boots.

Some of them protested, first were the rants of Levi then Jean, then Marlowe, then Hange joined you of your 'madness'.

"Whoo hooo! Is this really salt water?!"  
"So fucking salty!" Jean drank saltwater.  
"M-My eyes!" -Sasha  
"Oh look it looks like a edged cookies!"   
"This hard stuff looks like a woman's clit."

You gave Floch a starfish, taken aback by how 'vibrantly pretty' it was, until he noticed the tickling sensation in his palm.

"Floch, flip it." You said.

Oh how he threw it back to the ocean, the tingling sensation of something crawling in his palms probably stayed there, as he tried to wash the touch of the starfish's mouth over the salty water. The Privates were alarmed by how high pitches his screech was. _Weak dick._

You went over Hange's to tell her to save the sea cucumbers she picked up for later.

"Hange, put it here! Put it here! They make good soup!" 

"Really?! You eat this in your world?" 

"It's a delicacy!" 

"Oi Hange, watch out. Don't touch it, could be dangerous." 

"F/N told me to get it."

"Don't go telling people to pick disgusting shit up, runt!" 

"I'll blow your head off when you taste this Lev!" 

"I won't touch that." 

"Oh, you will!"

And you heard Eren's angsty poetry.

_"If we kill them all, does that mean, we'll be free?"_   
  


"No, Eren!" you exclaimed, hoping it will make him waver a _little_. Even a little was fine.

A _little_ hope.

"You won't." You said in tune with the splashes of the ocean. "You're just repeating the same cycle of hate, and there's no freedom in that." You went on, louder this time. "Fighting doesn't always mean death and killing." Armin and Hange were looking at you, in their eyes read that probably, _probably_ talks will fix something. You know it's far from reality; deaths will pour like rain as this war goes on. But you want him to know that an understanding by simple exchange of words works too. It might take a few blueprints to trade, few food baits to convince an old, lavish, military man to borrow the Garrison, a broken wrist, painful pulls of hair, some curses here and there, but it works. _It_ _worked_.

Talk is not a magic pill that will fix everything at once, but fixing the little things first _might_ eventually lead there.

Imagine the lives they can spare just by talking and sometimes, that's winning too.

"Winning is also when we succeeded protecting something very close to us." You noticed how much your throat hurt realizing you were screaming at this point.

"The people at the end of the ocean stole our freedom from us, and I will fight to steal theirs."

"Eren-"

"If I succeed, that counts... as winning, right?"

"No," it became so silent that only the howling of the wind and the splashes of surf can be heard, that even your simple plead rung in your ears. "that's just killing everyone, even those who have nothing to do with it."

They knew this better than anyone; being persecuted without knowing why— _without_ any reason why.

You don't have to throw a boulder if they threw you a rock because you _can_ let them know it hurt by making them understand the difference in size.

"So Eren, when the time comes that you have to choose, choose _them_. Choose these people."

You cut your hand by the shell you snatched from Armin when you gave it to Eren. 

* * *

The wall appeared to be taller at night.

You heard the hinges of the walls being ripped open minutes after firing of the shaved iceburst stone to signal the Corps' arrival.

"N!"

"Oi, Hange, someone's right there." 

"F/N! F/N! LET ME FUCKING DOWN! ANYONE!" 

"Oi, Annie Leonhart's still in the basement right? Screams like her."

"MOTHERFUCKIN F/N! IF YOU DON'T SEE ME I SWEAR I'M GONNA PEG YA FUCKIN' ASS!"

**_BOOM!_ **

Followed by a sharp flash of light that could only belong from a flash grenade.

_Arianne?_ You squinted your eyes to check if your head was doing tricks on you. _What in the fucking hell..?_

"Wait Levi," Hange said as he withdrew his blades, "that's a person."

"Could be a titan shifter."

"No, wait, wait Lev, I know her... I think." They surrounded the tree that the person supposedly climbed by herself, out with the blades, stance ready to fight.

"T-Titans? Are you titans? Humans? Am I at the right place—"

"Arianne?"

"F/N?" She squinted her eyes to look at you better, her shaky, throaty voice gave away that she had been crying all this time. You took out the iceburst stone to let the glow speak for itself, confirming the identity of the black haired bombshell you have been friends all the way from childhood.

You climbed down your horse, the warning from Levi ignored as he cursed under his breath, following your descend.

"Levi," you heard Hange, "we can't let the gates open any longer. Even without the titans now, we can't be lenient and sacrifice the safety of everyone in the walls."

"You go, we'll fire and climb by elevator."

"Sorry Hange." As apologetic as you can be. You assisted her descend, but surprisingly, Jean stayed while you watched him offer his assistance before you did.

Oh yeah, he has a thing for dark haired ladies... too bad, Arianne doesn't like men.

"Jean, let me." You said, giving him the only light source to cue that he needed to step aside. "Careful, Arianne."

"Oi runt, your chicken arms will break." You didn't listen to him, while you continued the assist.

"Careful..." she was crying, and you let out a snort, nose flaring as you hide the humor of her ugly crying by the clearing of your throat. "You okay?"

She was still sniffing. "I've ate my lunch and dinner up the fucking tree..." the hoarseness in her voice suggested she had been screaming like crazy for probably a whole day. "Took you so long, bitch, I thought I dropped at the wrong place..."

Jean gone over the wall, flash grenade rang in your ears.

"Let's talk about this inside okay?" You saw the bulk of her _two_ bags.

"And did you bring your house too?" She climbed your horse, totally ignoring the glaring Levi. Her bags carried by his horse, all of you alighted in the manual elevator.

"Shut up, I didn't know how long I'll be here."

"You didn't have to." You tried to coo her, soothing her back as you did. "Did something happen?"

"I'm on the run, F/N. They last saw you in my lab, and now the portal's about to get shut down."   
  
  


***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short chapter, now that I have to re-evaluate, we're not down to 1 more chapter, but 2. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
> 
> So this will be done with 31, bear with me, please. I haven't slept yet... for 2 days.
> 
> Anywaaaaay! How did you like the conversation between Eren and reader? It's one of the reader's character development the whole story: like she didn't mind paying back the insults with something physically damaging before (remember she pranked Connie and Jean in the beginning, which she realized had been too much?) and then as the story progresses, she had this shift that probably with her quick thinking, she can do better things than pranking back tenfold?
> 
> Then you see where the 'talks' to Erwin and Zeke (bargaining Miche's and her freedom by tech knowledge), borrowing some Garrison members to aid SC in the Shiganshina war, and Levi would usually turn violent and she pays him back with words? The canon says Levi's the character that doesn't believe in words, and yet, he fell for someone who believed in the power of it?
> 
> Because her words came with actions, probably that's why.
> 
> Did my mumbles make sense?
> 
> I know the romance is not yet in full bloom, like they're just starting, which looks so abrupt, but I hope the ending will make sense.
> 
> See you sooon! 🖤


	30. The Unspoken Term

"Hey." Your shallow sleep was interrupted by the rustling of fabrics that indicated Arianne was awake. You stood from the uncomfortable chair, your muscles screamed at the sudden movement from the stiff position you rested in. "How do you feel?"

Arianne's silhouette approached you in unsteady waltz, the body odor took you aback and reminded you when you were in her position. She had been kept here for 74 hours tops, and the SC officers will have to plan on something as leverage to get Arianne out of this mess.

"Smell like shit, look like shit, feel like shit. Makes no difference to me." She said as she clung to the bars of her cell, her fringe hid her eyes. "F/N, how long are they gonna keep me here? In our world, we can call our lawyer to get us out, bail us or something. File a fucking Habeas Corpus because I'm detained here _without_ FUCKING AUTHORITY!" she screamed the last words, shaking the cell bars aggressively like the first days of her detention.

They had to detain her, since her situation mirrored yours years after you let yourself get found out by the Survey corps, only a handful of people knew you were from another world. Sure, the military knew you as that weirdo who mod her gear, and urbanized the whole of Paradis, but that was about it.

You were scared the other military branches would see her as an enemy or someone they could exploit, so it was just a given that they had to hide her until they think of something to hide her identity over her usefulness, like they did to yours.

"Arianne, you have to understand, you're not in our world, this place is run by the military and-"

"But I'm not a _fucking_ military man, F/N." She whispered while her hands slid down the bar. She allowed her form to slump down the cold, damp floor. "What's so fun about this that you had to visit this godforsaken place? You could've left! You could've told your old man that you'll go somewhere and I'll probably won't be a fugitive! You could've at least gone back early!" Her voice cracked a few times between the sobs, the insecure position she assumed as she hugged her knees. You let her vent. True, everything started because of you. The ifs that you pushed and pushed and shoved at the back of your head became a horrible reality to her and a consequence to you. You let her vent, something you have done for the longest that you have known her, and you took the blame of all her accusations.

"Arianne-" you held out the usual ration of potatoes and beans.

" _Don't_ ," she tried to calm herself. "The least you can do is go home with me. Clear my name, sell that damn thing to the government like how they wanted it-"

"What?" Your eyebrows wrinkled at the confusion. You thought this was about you leaving, and she was just telling you in the three days of trash talking and silent treatment, she was telling you _this_ now? You slid the ration on the gap, turning the chair that you sat on waiting for her to not treat you like shit and then _this_?

"I haven't told you?" She took the high calorie biscuit they serve on expeditions and a glass of water; she ate in big bites and drank in big gulps.

"I heard nothing for three days but you calling me a piece of shit."

"Sorry."

"Just talk." You allowed the impatience to display in your face.

You were gone for months already. It wasn't too long that the government-runned laboratory sniffed out your after hour handiwork before Arianne could file a patent and apply for a Nobel. And just a day before she could go in the Patents Office and explain the complexities of the portal, she was served a warrant of search and seizure _without_ actually putting what they were looking for. Red flag number one.

Red flag number two: the lab served her a memo explaining countless, breach on non-disclosure agreement, insubordination, incompetence, non-existent gross negligence, tardiness and all the good ol' petty stuff sure way plan to fire her by the end of the month.

The thing was, they never did.

It was a psychological game: to keep her on edge as much as possible without breaking her down, just enough keep her working for the lab despite her 'incompetence' as the claims would say, but to make sure that her sanity was functioning enough that she could still work _for_ them. Then came the men in suits she never saw but claimed to stalk her morning till dawn, and do it all over again, for the last few months.

It wasn't long that your mother filed a search for disappearance, and for heaven's sake, they just had to link your affiliation with Arianne, and your employment in the lab, that by mere hours, they already obtained a warrant of arrest.

You were sure some footage of you entering the lab was the day you were last seen, just in the hall where Arianne worked.

Arianne was perceptive enough to copy your last work in her white board, the blueprint of the portal with her, she packed her stuff and to hell with everyone on Earth, she said goodbye. The walls that kept the portal hidden had its new and triple encryption, that only her knew how to decrypt.

Not for long.

It will only take a few weeks— maybe days, depending on how good they were to break down and decrypt the layers of protection she put on, just so to secure the way home.

"What now? Now that you know how bad this is, you better come home with me."

"Arianne, the thing is, I can't."

"What even do you fucking mean? Something more important than this?"

"I have my contract here. I have to finish the thermal generator." You lied. It wasn't the generator that was holding you back, and you hoped she doesn't see it yet. Her experience with men made her wary and spiteful of them; they were that irredeemable piece of nothing to her, the weeks turned months had those times where she would hyperventilate and pass out after a struggle to restrain her from using the IV stand against male nurses and doctors who checked up on her; there were days she would be hostile in refusing to be seen or held by anyone— even you. Nights where she would either wake up screaming and crying or just sit in her hospital bed, her eyes unfocused, while she hugged her knees, lulling herself. Times where you had to go and make sure she won't stick too long in the bathroom or anywhere alone, because it came to a point where blood was oozing from her wrist and between her legs, the shower on and carried her life down the drain with her unborn child begotten from the unknown father, pregnancy tests scattered everywhere as if expecting that they were false positive. You almost lost her, and you couldn't bear it if you did. Her wound ran deep.

And it wouldn't be fair that your wounds were starting to heal, ironically, in this place where nothing reeks but the cycle of hate.

"Then let's go! They can't find you if you go back!"

"Can you really tolerate that you did something so half-ass?" That stopped her. You knew despite how bad the situation gets, her pride of seeing everything unfold whatever she started will get the best of her. You saw her nibble what was left in her ration, then came that familiar chewing of lips and downcasted eyes whenever she was weighing something. A few more minutes, and more, and mo-

"We just have to make the generator work, right?" She wore that deadpan expression, and you couldn't help but smile at the familiarity.

"And then the wirework."

"And? Anything else before I tell you to fuck off?" You were preventing the giggles.

"D...raft?" You hesitantly trailed the words upward. You knew you were getting what you wanted. 

"O...f?" She mimicked you.

"The bigger one." As quickly and as quietly you muttered under your breath. Then there came a few seconds of silence...

You heard the familiar decisive sigh.

"Fine bitch, but that's it, okay? We have to go home."

You couldn't bring yourself to respond. 

* * *

You were summoned by the corps after a day in the Factory city.

You had to hurry before the male privates would take her away, scared that she might end up biting them, or them, accidentally killing her, or hitting her just to make her stop struggling. You saw how she lost a tooth at one time, when she had to bite a male nurse in his very first day, and you had to pay for the tetanus shot.

But as surprised as you were, she seemed to settle calmly when Levi watched her from behind: Hange just a few centimeters that their shoulders almost touched.

Well, you knew she had a thing for tall, smart brunettes with feline eyes— well, in this case, an eye, but feline nonetheless.

"What is going on?" You were excited to the probable good news. Now that you saw her in a better lighting, she was pale, lost some weight, and smelled like musky onions and pee. It didn't stop you from hugging her though.

"You okay?" You checked her nails and her ears; Hange laughed at this.

"We didn't torture Arianne. We already made the deal."

"So? What is the deal?" You were animating your anticipation with your hands. The way you grabbed her hand somehow caught the attention of Arianne, as she herself checked your deformed fingernails.

"What... in the world..." She turned to Levi in wide- eyed spite, inferencing that years ago, someone removed your nails. "you said you wouldn't hurt her!" You and Hange were quick to restrain her, her arms trying to reach Levi who remained unfazed by her sudden lash out.

"The Military police did this to me! Arianne, listen!" Your pleads competed with her battlecries. "Arianne! He never hurt me! Never did!" You lied.

Only then did she began to calm down, Hange still beside her, and you trailing behind Arianne, Levi following behind you. 

* * *

She sat in in the middle of the room, her hands tied behind the back rest, Levi holding down the chair by his foot. The commander's office was... still, so Erwin. You could guess Hange never bothered to replace the draping and carpet as if to remind her that she had a duty to the fallen soldiers, and that heavy responsibility was enough to keep her going.

"F/N, open it." And you unzip the two, glaring red luggages she had brought with her. Opening the luggage was like opening a box of nostalgia to you, and a box of never ending surprise to them.

"W-What is that? Why does it look like-"   
"That's a strap on dildo, Jean." You can see the horrified look in his face.

"Say hello to Jonathan, Jona for short."

"Why Jean-boy? Too big for you?" You heard Levi's deep, throaty but nevertheless velvety tenor booming in the room. His response amused you all the more when you saw his eyebrow twitched as   
you hooked your finger in a strap. You couldn't help but purse the lips to stifle your giggles.

Arianne was looking at you.

You shifted your focus on wrapping Jean's nightmare in a towel for everyone's comfort.

"I dunno, but porn says probably." You addressed anyone who might find this information usable.

"But Captain, you saw, that's not a-" Jean cleared his throat, in a whisper he continued "that's a tree bark!"

"Well, not that I would want to know, but some people enjoy fucking a tree."

The snorted in compromise to giggles, but their bickering faded in your ears and focus was regained when Hange asked a question by the tap of your shoulder.

"Porn?" Hange asked, and it shouldn't surprised you that the commander wanted to know every detail you had for her. Oh how you wanted to know how they would react to this: Levi, you discovered, when it comes to physical relationship, was _not_ a dummy.

Though he had experience with the physical; he was a tadpole just learning how to swim of what goes _beyond_ it. Contrary to what most people would say, he admitted to you once that he had some physical relationships in the past. You understood he was referring to a teenage boy powered with testosterone and curiosity, and although you even thought it was weird of you to ask what he might be into, he didn't tell you.

But the way he didn't, tells you his preference _wasn't_ gentlemanly.

"Lewd videography. Nothing for softie."

"Hey, F/N! Don't tell them— mmmm!" Jean covered her mouth.

"Videography? What's that?" Hange decided to start there and go from anywhere the conversation would take her.

"You know the photo you saw in Eren's basement? That, but colored and moving."

"Moving?" You heard her gulp. Might as well let the a videoclip do the moaning— talking. You took Arianne's laptop, and by the second the laptop booted, Hange's eyes sparkled brighter than the display on the screen. You could hear the questions of the loud commander, and awe of the tall, young Jean as you moved around the pointer to some folders, knowing exactly where her e-stash of porn just hiding in plain sight.

Arianne was protesting, as Levi's foot continued to hold down her struggling. He wasn't too focused on the screen; he looked bored and that was the most accurate thing you could've described the expression he was wearing. The others, when the short clip of 'Transtreat.com shemale on female cum tournament' started playing...

"She looks like..." Jean glanced at Hange, and sure enough, the lady _did_ look like her. You could see in your periphery that he gulped as he sat down, crossed legs when the smacking of lips came in speaker.

"Come on now, you're not looking at the face." You heard Arianne's muffled comment, her gag now removed the when Jean needed to sit. "You're looking at the wrong stuff!"

You paused the video and forced the laptop to sleep with the smash of your hand. "Arianne, be civil."

"F/N that's-"

"Calm down, they're not going to do anything to your laptop, okay?"

"Butyoushowedthemtheworstofmystash!"

"I've been there... wait what?" _Excuse me?_

"I mean _dude_ ," she tried to steady her breaths, "if you're going to show them something, at least show them _the_ _good_ stuff!"

It took you a few seconds to get to her line of thinking, and as you did, you cleared your throat, realizing she downloaded the stuff that you _hated_ the most, just to see your cringing reaction.

"Nope, nope," you waved your hand as you rummaged on her stuff. "We are not going to do that."

"Do what?" Hange popped your personal bubble space.

"Just," you held your breath, thinking of the more appropriate and non-off putting words to describe how repulsive it was. Deciding there was none, you settle on a dismissive tone, just

so Hange won't push it any longer. "just there are things best left unknown to humankind okay? Something that should _burn_ , yeah? Let's just get this over with."

"Hey, you gotta tell us, you promised to teach us what you know!"

"Please stop asking." Hange looked disappointed.

"Hey," you said, as you fished and snapped the polariod, alarming Jean and exciting Hange.

"Oi, runt, what did you do?" Levi impassively stared at you.

You shook the photo paper, soon revealing a rather unexpected candid photo op of everyone.

"What?" He said, relinquishing his foot in Arianne's chair.

"Nothing." You said, trying real hard to stifle the laughter, the moment it caught was too precious that you regretted not taking one for yourself on your early years of stay.

Levi torn between surprise and annoyance; almost like a passport picture except that he looked more like he was about to drop the biggest of complains.

Arianne was about to yell, apparently, to Jean, before the flash interrupted the unwelcomed noise;

Hange was taking most of the frame, her feline eye caught in the middle of blinking at the flash;

And Jean was so confused that his face couldn't decide what to make of it.

"See? You look like you're about to bitch someone, Lev." You nudged his rib, your giggles weren't held back. You walked over Hange, realizing Arianne was looking at you again, you handed the commander the frozen memory on paper.

"Keep it, Hange. Next time we'll make a photo taking with everyone." They looked at it, Hange's eye displayed the warmest, as she caressed the sticky photo paper.

"F/N?" She said, looking at you with the same warmth she displayed while looking at the photo.

"Hmm?"

A few seconds of wait.

"Hange?" You waited some more. "You telling me what plan you came up with?"

"Yes." You waited for her to start.

"You will bring your work in the shed. Both of you will stay here until you finish the generator. That will be her leverage so she can go home."

"We agree be holding on to these." Hange showed you the familiar platinum and blue circle. "She can't go home without one, right?"

"We-" Arianne interjected.

"Hange, what if someone knew you're working on something behind their back?"

"They won't mind." Levi interjected, "If they want this shit over with, they have to give us every support they can give, which meant she'll be allowed some leeway."

"Except that she might become a subject of interrogation too." You understood. This time, you have to pose as if you were still working alone.

But why did it feel like they're not telling you the entire picture?

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

There was a pause followed by the gratitude and hesitation in one single word.

"Nothing."

* * *

While the first bag contained nothing more than Arianne's toiletries, clothes and hygiene products that made Levi gulp, the second bag was heavier for a good reason.

Behind the box of tea, instant coffees, candies and chocolates, hid a car battery and a regulator. Arianne was already giving you that 'you're welcome' shrug combined with her smug.

"You bitch," you reiterated your words to her that day, as she soldered the copper wires and you coat them with rubber-like gooey insulator material the Factory city gave you. The machine was almost done, and you didn't want to remember her condescending tone as she checked your work and rectified the errors you've made on them.

"What? I'm keen enough to bring one with me. And I know you wanted to bring one too, you just didn't have enough meat to actually lift something."

"I trained for 3 years, if you cared to know. Survived Shadis and all his crappy breath." You pricked your hand with the sharp point of the copper wire. Her eyes lingered at you fingers, your entire stay was something you didn't get to talk about yet because you were too busy finishing the generator.

You knew the hurry, and it alarmed you that you haven't told her you of your decision to not go with her, nor your relationship with Levi.

You didn't want to hide anything from her, because she allowed you to see her in her most vulnerable.

She traced your fingers, holding it for inspection... then she saw the swell of the slightly larger wrist bone you now had when Levi broke your wrist.

"You know, I intended to come back after the breach in wall Maria. I'm sorry I got you into my mess." You were looking for any reaction, but she was intent on listening. "But if you cared to listen to an excuse, I couldn't go back, the portal got jammed."

"F/N," was holding your arms now, the sleeves were retracted, and the truth out for her to see of how much this world counted your pain, with every scar they left.

Her face twisted grimly for every inch your sleeve was retracted.

"My gosh, I'm so sorry..." she whispered, and it started as a single sob. Until she clung to your sleeves to look for more evidence of your struggles, the first line was how much weight you lost, deformed growth of your nails, the swell in your wrist, the bullet scar in your shoulder to the scars in your arms that robbed you of their full function.

"I'm so sorry, sorry, sorry-"

"Hey, this was all me, Arianne, I got myself to this mess because I made a wrong decision to not say anything to mom. So don't apologize. I got you dragged into this again because I couldn't decide well."

While you were genuinely sorry that she had to be caught up on your bad decision-making skill, you weren't sorry for coming here and meeting good people despite their worst conditions. You weren't sorry that you spent countless hectic days and nights making something for people that didn't know you; you weren't sorry that you met Miche and how warm and sensitive he was as a person despite his eccentricities; you weren't sorry that you met Petra despite the rough start, and Marco, Eld, Moblit, Oluo, Nifa and Erwin and other people that remained.

You weren't sorry that these people pulled you into something you thought you couldn't do, but did it, anyway, to buy them some more time.

They were so worth it.

Coming here was never a regret to you.

Meeting Levi was the least of everything you regret.

So how do you even tell her you wanted to stay?

"Sorry, sorry, sorry-"

"Arianne I don't deserve your apology." She kept repeating the words as her sobs were getting heavier, she lulled herself, the habit of hers some years showing back again. Anytime soon, she wouldn't be able to breathe.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry-"

"Arianne-"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry-"

"Arianne," you held her to look at you in the eyes, but she kept her head low, and she kept muttering the words of apology in front of you.

"You don't need to, it's fine-"

"You don't understand." She stopped lulling, as she muttered in whisper.

"That was a _defective_ prototype I gave you, F/N."

You hoped she had more to say. That couldn't be it. You waited until she was done biting her lip, but the elaboration didn't come. You thought the portal was good enough; it passed the tests why would she send you a _defective_ prototype?

"Did you..." your knees buckled at the thought that there exists a day that you had to doubt her intentions, but it was the only answer in your head. After all, how many women had a sure chance of winning a Nobel? How many pounds and dollars and other currency available to Earth would she have earned if only that the portal you _both_ worked for got patented? Arianne? Of all people?

"Arianne, did you expect me to die here? To get all the credit?"

But she didn't confirm nor deny any of it.

"I'm sorry."

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! I am alive and... I slept well thank you very much! 
> 
> I know it took 4 days to update, but when I was writing this, and I had to trash the countless revisions because it just felt so flat. I had this vision in my head that Arianne’s arrival would be chaotic, but the more I see military protocol, it’s just impossible. Also, I had this ending in my head and how how it will play out, but the thing was, I can’t squeeze the ending chapters into 2 chapters. So again, I had to adjust. 
> 
> Also, despite Arianne's trauma, to the point that she became violent, I was thinking while writing this, of how tolerating Reader was when it comes to pain. Turns out, I see the parallelism between Levi and Arianne... or maybe it's just me.
> 
> I’m sorry that you had to wait so long. Please tell me what you think! Thank you so much for reading this tale.


	31. The Perfect Excuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers ahead.

The world seemed to twirl in an uncomfortable pace.

You tried to breathe, these could be something you've misunderstood. Arianne— she's loyal and trustworthy. Sure she had her rough edges and her fucked up hate with men but she won't cross the line.

Right?

"You gave me the wrong portal, isn't?" Your words were barely whispers, that maybe she could postpone the confirmation in the guise that she didn't hear you.

But her aversion of gaze and the clutch in her own arm melted you better than the acid of her words.

It just told you what you dreaded to see.

"I'm so sorry—"

"You gave me the wrong portal!" You shook her by the arms, fingers dug her skin while you tried to meet her eyes. She was hiding them with her fringe— a classic sign of her guilt, one that she never got to get rid of.

"You gave me the wrong portal..." you held back the tear, "You didn't _mean_ to give me the defective one, right?"

"I-I did. I was mistaken. T-They all look the same to me, you see."

She was eyeing the still retracted sleeves, her lips bled while she continued to chew them like a good boy treat of lying to you. Her lip oozed with blood and she was quick to lick it and do it all over again; digging deeper and deeper as if she was punishing herself for being a conniving little prick, and at the same time rewarding herself that she's doing a _good_ job atoning for it. Her eyes traced the scars that painted your arm like trophy for every battle you survived.

All those years of staying here, all you did was second guess when there's a good reason for you to stay. Ironically, you found love and friendships in a world where death and chaos were the only certain things that exist. You didn't even intend on finding one because you thought that all the worst aside, the comforts of the people in your world will shield you from it.

You thought friendships that lasted a long time was an assurance of loyalty. Now you knew, loyalty is _not_ measured by time.

Her words were incredibly freeing, it was the perfect excuse.

"You know I _trusted_ you, Arianne. But sometimes, people make mistakes, don't they?"

"Yes, a lapse of judgment." She lied looking at your eyes. It was as if she was reminding you of your guilt that night in the alleyway, like she was buying you of the same guilt to earn your forgiveness.

"So allow me to make one mistake: Go home without me. I'll videotape myself so mom won't press charges."

You turned back, you didn't want to listen to her bullshit any longer but she held on to your arm like a leech that she was, working you to the bone, and waiting until it was good enough to harvest someone else's hard work. Sure, she did her fair share of work, but to steal yours as her own? She can have it, if that was all it took to remove her grip in your skin.

This will be the last payment you'll ever make to atone for that night. And to be honest, you paid more than enough.

You'll wash her out of your life.   
A cheap bargain if someone like her would be gone out of your system.

Her touch seared with betrayal, and the burns smelled like disappointment.

"F/N..." you kept walking until she made you turn around to make you look at her. Her vision roamed to your form, and the flaws that tolled on you the longer you stayed here.

"Come with me, hmm? You know what's going to happen— everyone in the military who drinks the wine will become a titan. Do you think the titans will sit in front of you to ask if you're an Eldian? And they won't kill you if you say you're not one of them? You can't even carry these wires— how do you think you can slice their nape with blades?"

"I can't, I'll probably die, but I want to stay, Arianne. That's final. I'll help them as much as I could."

"F/N, you're not special! You coming from another world doesn't make you special! You're not a god who can save everyone! I bet you tried to, but failed, didn't you? You know why? Because you can't change any _fucking_ thing in this place! You can't stop the Rumbling! You can't stop Eren resetting everything by genocide! And what if you ran out of ideas to help them huh? What if Ackerdick decided to not want your pussy anymore? What if you die and that's just it? You think that's meaningful? This is their fight, and you don't belong here! Stop forcing pieces that don't fit! Get your damn head straight!"

She slapped you in the cheeks to meet your unfocused eyes, but all you remembered was how you got that gesture from her whenever you wanted to stay awake and how you do it to the people whom you cared for in this world, and how you brought them to their senses when everything became hazy—

"If he really loves you, he wouldn't let your nails removed, but guess what? He didn't rescue you. He broke your wrist, and he probably never apologized! He curses a lot! That's verbal abuse! Psychological abuse! He changed you so much that I don't even see you doing the things you loved to do! Do you even play guitar now? Sing? Yoga? He made you join him in Shiganshina war because of what?! What F/N! His dick that good?" She held your shoulders, and every touch felt like worms crawling that you just wanted her to stop touching you.

"You're going to leave your life behind for _dick_?"

Her words had some truth in them of the things you were willing to look past.   
And to be honest, it _hurt_.

"Levi isn't a conniving little prick who would send me to hell and lock me in there, Arianne. He's not the type of person to love the attention and envy anyone who outshines him so he plays the victim even when the other person needed it as much as he did. He always puts others before his own, he would never sell his friends out for something so shallow as a Nobel inheritance, a trophy and a 10 percent royalty— and even if he did, he makes promises to give their sacrifices an equal meaning." You walked closer to her, unfazed by the difference on height and strength.

"He may be awkward and rough around the edges, but he's _honest_ with his intentions. He can learn, but _damaged_ people like you? You _can't_. So stop fucking up what you _can't_ _learn_ and go home by yourself. I'll make sure you don't end up shitting yourself in a cramped cell."

You can still hear her muffled warnings about Levi breaking you.

* * *

You spent most of the time making bulbs in the mess hall, leaving Arianne in the shed for the wirework.

The generator was done; all that's left was putting the wires in place the headquarters, and attaching the bulbs as source of light.

You heard it was done too.

Pride swelled up to see them hanging in corners and ceilings of the Survey Headquarters. Hange, who had a bad eyesight because of her habitual reading at night, was delighted to see that you've made her a study lamp, just so she can read better at night.

Soon, Hange announced that the Military conditionally approved that if the factory would be able to replicate the series of lamp designs and the generator you prepared for them, light across Paradis might work in a few more months.

All these good news should make you happy.   
But the wound was too fresh to celebrate a loss.

You were about to remove the iceburst stones to let some light in, but the hearth was already blazing.

"Oi, runt. Come taste."

Levi. _Your_ just Levi.

Levi that you traded for all the things that you had and lost.

"Who made you cry?" He walked on your direction, while giving you a spoonful of soup that you knew was too expensive even with his salary in the corps.

"No one." You flatly lied, and took his wrist to guide the spoon in your mouth. He fished the handkerchief in his pocket, taking his time to gently wipe the tears, then he pinched your nose to signal you to blow it.

"I can do that myself." You smiled. You didn't want him to nurse you with all your hideous mess.

"You look like that disgusting thing Hange picked up in the ocean."

"You mean sea cucumbers? They're yummy though."

"They don't stop being disgusting because they're 'yummy'."

"I look like a puffer fish." You checked yourself in the mirror in the kitchen. You weren't listening to his mumbles as you were busy checking your red, squinting, puffy eyes, plump, tear stained cheeks. Your face looked more horrible the longer you stared at it.

"I'm gonna take a bath Lev, wanna join me?" You winked to tease. He looked at you while he gathered the utensils in your cramped, but clean, you just noticed, kitchen.

_So he did some cleaning... he sure had a lot of time._

"3 minutes or the soup's gonna go cold."

"No military showers Lev!"

"3 minutes—"

"Or you'll come here and clean me yourself?" You shouted over the door, the splash of water over your head. "I better last longer than 3 minutes then!"

He should be the busiest person nowadays that they planned to intercept Marley in the beach any day now. It warmed you that he was here when you really needed the company.

He's not the best cook, but his meticulous persona urged him to use the freshest ingredients, sliced and diced to perfectly bite-sized pieces.

"Is this mushroom?" You observed the contents of the soup. "Levi, you hate mushrooms."

"You love them."

"But you don't need to force yourself to eat it." You almost dipped the tip of your spoon to his bowl, just in time to tacitly ask permission with your eyes.

"Go ahead." And you took the mushroom from his soup.

The night went on with the cackle of the hearth. You almost forgot Arianne's lies if only he spared the questions of what happened to you the past few days that you didn't see him. You left out that part from him and only that part to minimize the damage that bitch brought to you. You knew what Levi can do; and it scared you that he might do what he did when Isabelle got her hair cut by someone. And then there came his complaining you missed; the way his tongue rolled _Tch_ and then talk some more about the head quarter's cleanliness, the sloppy wiping of the tables in the mess hall and the cockroaches.

"Just burn some neem oil and you'll be fine. Ask anyone to gather them and I'll make some." 

"Brats are busy preparing not to die."

"When will you go to the beach anyways?" You sipped the tea he made, and damn it you could never get his brewing right, it's just so good.

"Soon, but I have a day off tomorrow. What do you wanna do? We can clea—"

"No cleaning, the place is immaculate already." 

"Tch, course it is." He whispered under his breath. "Anything in your head?" 

"Been awhile since I've talked with you like this. So more of this? Outside?" 

"Off the walls? Wish harder."

"Well that was worth a try."

Then his questions became impossible to answer lightly. The way he asked them was quiet, intrusive yet polite, simple, but demanded more that just few words.

"Where would you wanna live if you gone back?" 

"Hmm?" 

"You heard me." 

"I love the beach but I'm scared of Tsunamis, I love the mountains but too quiet for me... so I'll settle in a city. Why d'you ask?" 

"It's populated and dirty. The air's not good, don't you want to settle on a plain field?" 

"Levi, lightnings are scary! And tornados! Did Paradis never had one— oh, when I say lightning, there's no titan shifters or anything, alright? It's just the ordinary lightning but they really interrupt with signal sites. That's why no one likes them. Also, they make mushrooms grow too." 

"Seems like you're scared by a lot of things, and yet you're here. You didn't seem like a coward when you charged over monkey."

"You thought?" You giggled. "You have no idea..." you noticed how close you had been to him in the hours of talking around the _irori_. A campfire but just the two of you, the iceburst stone served as reachable stars that mildly illuminated the room. The scattered blues from the stones, and the yellow glow from the fire was fighting for dominance, and the effect was a confusing, but beautiful contrast in colors.

"...how terrified I was... when..." the contours of his features against the light was the first to entice you, and you didn't even notice until you were reaching out for the collar of his shirt, which you let go immediately, the moment you noticed how you badly wrinkled it for him. He didn't scold you or anything...

but his eyes remained solely focused on yours.

"...when I thought I was going to die. Maybe not my time, not yet." Your laugh had no humor in it. "But true, I'm scared of so many things. Bees, snakes? Yeah. Titans? Not so much now, but if they got me, maybe I will be."

"Do you like where you lived back home? How you lived?"

"Levi, what's with the questions? Something on your mind?"

"I ask the questions. Just wanna know more, that's all."

You sighed and your eyes lingered across the room. How do you even start? Should you tell him how much of a failure you felt because you just don't like the thought of signing books you never wanted to write? Or how much you hated of how under-accomplished you feel in that world that being in _his_ made you feel like you had a purpose?

He wanted you to start from childhood to now, what were your favourite stuff to eat, or if you liked eating at all. You told him you loved walnuts and dried fruits, like that time he did before it even registered that he intended to be with you, but know you realized you never gave him an answer. "Is that even necessary now?" He asked you, and looking back from then, the assurance he gave you from his silent and accruing actions, you knew the labels weren't much of a necessity. He made you feel secure without uttering clichéd lines of overrated 'I love yous' you came to despise now. He asked you how were your parents like, your fondest memory with them, and how do you think they're feeling when you left.

You told him they probably were looking for you because that's what a good parent would do, but not because they loved you enough to look out for you. It was more of a duty rather than familial love that ran deep to most families you had the fortune to meet out of wedding invitations. Then he told you you were a lucky one who has parents and were loving enough to look for you, and clothe you and feed you and send you to school. You realized he was telling you in a perception of someone who didn't have a long chance of having a complete set of guidance, like the orphans in the plains. His words made you feel excessively pompous, and you can't help but reflect for fond memories you had with them.

Then he asked you how were you like in your teenage years, and he told you that his was not as good as yours. You felt disgustingly ashamed that you felt lacking when you practically had everything he could wish for when you were a kid. You were safe, well-fed and learned but still wanted more, when he had to fight someone for food, bet on brawls and arm wrestling to buy a stale bread, and steal to secure him and his friends a meal. You thought yours sucked; tests by tests, exams by exams that they sickened you to look at another letter enough to divert your joy on the things you can touch, hence, your love for creating things. It grew more and more and before you knew it, you were teaching yourself of numbers and symbols that didn't make sense to your parents because all they knew was how to create magic with words.

The contrast between the two of you was glaringly red and sore.  
And now, you felt grateful that your parents did everything they could to give you to the best they can.

And now you realized how much you missed your mother's cooking, and thought that you will never eat it again.

And you didn't left out that Arianne made you feel at home.

Then went the questions about your ideal home, and where would you live. "That again?" You asked him, but he insisted that you retell him the front of your house.

"I won't live in a house, I'll live in an apartment with a balcony so I can look at the stars with my telescope. You'll see me working there most of the time. No plants, I can't grow them, but probably with a dog or a cat."

"What city will you live in if you were back home?" You laughed at this.

"I've always wanted to live in..." your lips pursed as you wondered the last time you daydreamed like this. You would've told him you wanted to live close to work, and you wanted to live somewhere in Tokyo long ago, but now that you've thought hard, you wanted to live where you can appreciate the view while going to work. The horse riding was getting to you.

"Helsinki, Finland. Or Sydney, Melbourne, maybe Perth. All Australia. That would be nice."

"Where would you love to work?"

"What is with all the questions?" You saw the first ray of sunshine behind the curtains. "We can take our time after all this... mess." You held his hand, and gave it a massage. "You can know me after. It may take long, but make sure to come back, okay?"

His questions felt abrupt, hasty, like he was getting to know you in words because he might not have the opportunity to do so. His fear was not unfounded, you can die anytime in the ambush if the Hange allows you to go with them, or he my die stopping the Rumbling, you don't know. After all, you knew he will _not_ come home to you in complete piece.

_If_ he retuned.

"I'll try." His kiss was long and gentle against your forehead.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't how to feel when I was writing Arianne's lines to be honest. 
> 
> Red flags are so easy to overlook at the early stages of romance that some will probably pretend it's not there. If you're in love everything feels good. But what about the long run? 
> 
> But all things aside, I can't hate any of the characters because I feel like each of them had points that strike.
> 
> I hope I can finish all chapters today. I think I owe you readers that much. Thank you for reading and sticking so long. :) 


	32. 24 Hours

You woke up 2 hours later, the scent of Iris and fresh soap engulfed your senses.

The first line of sight was his straight, silky hair, then his parted fringe covering his forehead. The bed was enough to house both of your sleeping forms; his face in your bosom, your leg on his hip. Invisible needles pricked your numbed arm, as his head was heavier than it looked.

You decided, as uncomfortable as it felt, this was the best way to wake up.

You didn't move; you knew how the little actions put him on edge especially when there was windows near him. You recalled his bedroom window was high up, the biggest one there was, was in his office. His bed was in the corner of the room, trapped between two walls, most likely thinking that it'll protect him from intruder. Then you had the balls to ask him about the switch knife under his pillow. He told you for security measures, but you had a hunch it was because of a long formed habit when was still living in the underground.

But look at him cuddling with you.

You controlled the snort threatening to burst out in a tight smile that turned to pursing of your lips, you planted a kiss in his forehead like the one he did to you just awhile back. Damn it, his sleeping form can cure anything. There was no furrowed eyebrows, no scowl in his face... he looked like a child if it wasn't derogatory for him to be called that.

"You look so friggin' silly, drooling at me as if you'll get a piece."

"You said that to me before." You whispered. How did he even know you're awake and was staring at him?

"Do you have somewhere you wanna go—"

"Lake! Forest walks! Pictures! Lots of pictures!" You were eager to accept the offer of staying with you in his precious day off. You had to exploit every minute here on out because you knew he wouldn't have time to spare for you after this day. You nibbed Arianne's polaroid during the inspection, and not a single flying fuck you gave to even think if you're sorry about it. If she's going to leave, a camera would be a nice thing for her to leave behind, even if it might only function for a short while. You already missed his warmth and that signature scent when he sat up, but it was not long until his hand lingered to yours, then to your thigh. His caresses were well-received, you closed your eyes to feel more of his traveling fingers in your waist. He kneaded your gentle curves, to the modest lump of breasts, and your eyes opened again when you felt his weight shifted in the bed. You didn't understand why he stopped until you looked at your trembling hands and noticed the uneven breaths.

But you didn't want him to stop.

Your unsteady hand grabbed his forearm to his surprise, while you looked at him wide-eyed, parted lips; the breaths were becoming soft pants. You sat up; there was a pause between the two of you...

Your bed creaked now that he faced you completely, his knee towered your sitting form as you guided his hand in your cheek. His fingers trailed down to your neck to the dip of your collarbones, and hooked a finger to the strap of your dress.

The anxiety was getting to you when he slid the strap down, and it fell off your shoulder. It was not because of your past experience in a dodgy alley that made you anxious, but because he might get repulsed to notice you never had an experience to show him.

And he kissed you, as he slid the other strap off your shoulder.

It started as brushings and pecks to the corners of your mouth, a playful warm up of what was coming next until the nexts were urging, demanding and contagious to your lips. You felt him smirked in between kisses, and the jokes of your naïveté made you flustered second to his intrusions.

_Thought Jean taught you in the shed._  
_Is this your lips or am I practicing in a bottle?_  
_Hmmm_ _... awkward._

You gently pushed him away, torn between the bliss and annoyance.

"Well, find someone experienced then! Tsk, not good enough for ya? Then don't kiss me!" You can see his jaw tightening and his nostrils slightly flaring at his attempt to stop the smile creeping in his lips.

He was whispering his apology when he sat down in the bed and leaned on the wall, heaving you between his thighs. Then came his thumb in your chin, pulling it slightly that your lip parted to lead you for another kiss.

Then the almost inaudible pecks grew a steady rhythm, and he taught you how he liked it. Your moans you didn't bother to hide, and you noticed it encouraged him to deepen what was already deep.

The next lesson was how to dance with his tongue. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you didn't know what to do with them, until he led yours to the buttons of his shirt, his fingers telling you to undo them. One hand caressed your thigh to lift the nuisance sleeping gown, another holding your jaw as he opened your mouth a little more...

Then there came the sloppy, lewd sounds.   
The moans that came from you as he almost smothered you with kisses and tongue teasings, his tongue dominated yours in a dance you can never win. Your fingers trembled as you struggled to undo his buttons.

You felt... _weird_.

Not the bad kind of weird but... there was something in your core that spasmed all the while when he gave you his kisses. You felt incredibly aware of that tender erection of your nipples, the throbbing and slithery wetness felt uncomfortable against the fabric between your thighs, and that his hand was warming up your now exposed hip.

You had to part to suck air, his eyes were hazy, sleepy even. Then his lips left trails of uncomfortable kisses in your neck, then to your chest.

"What—" you opened your eyes to see he was planting hickeys in the trail he had been, licks of apology right after sucking your skin.

"That hurt?" He whispered in between kiss-suck-licks one which you responded with moans.

He urged you to kneel in front of him; you towered over his relaxed form and his lips now where the spasms were happening. He readjusted his sitting posture, his eyes fixed to yours when he lowered you a little to reach for your breasts. He sucked a nipple behind the fabric of your sleeping gown, and fuck, the warmth felt _so_ _good_.

Then you felt your underwear turned to a side like how he would flip a page of a book, your consciousness pulled out from the hazy sensation of lust.

"Levi—" _Oh god praise the walls._

Your knees buckled, your eyes had to shut tight when you felt his finger play with your bud and your folds, and it was frustrating because it was light and gentle unlike his kisses just a while back.

Until he inserted a finger and stroked your insides without a warning.  
Only to pull it out again.

_Teaser!_

The gasps you made as he was strict in holding down your thigh to keep you kneeling in continuing stillness proved to be difficult enough the more he gently rubbed that arched leading to your sensitive bud.

"Please Levi let me lie down—"

"Keep still."

"Please..."

Your toes curled; it feels so good but it was so frustrating he wasn't giving you the fullness you wanted from him. Was he a mind reader? The moment you thought of it was the moment he inserted two fingers, and your body jerked on his surprise when you felt him part your inner walls a little.

"That hurt?"

"A little." And he pulled his fingers out, and stopped his intrusions.

You felt disappointed.   
Then surprised you seconds when you thought that was enough for today.

He laid you in bed as he towered over your vulnerable form. Your night gown's wide neckline and hem met in your stomach, exposing your modest, shapely breasts for him to see.

"You sure you're legal?" He teased, tracing doodles in them with his finger.

He hooked his finger in your underwear, slid them until you were completely exposed for him to see. You were covering you eyes with your forearm, too shy to even think of looking at him straight in the eyes, until you felt the same pair of lips giving you a kisses and marks to remember him.

Lips to neck.  
Neck to chest.  
Chest to ribcage.  
Ribcage to breasts.  
Breasts to stomach  
Until his kisses came to your womb.

Your body was momentarily free from his touch; and you were curious until you heard the rustling of fabrics. You thought what kept him long enough away from your skin...

Until you saw his lean, swimmer-like torso...  
And the shocking outline of his shaft near the pocket of his black trousers.

You instinctively gulped, and you felt compelled to avert your eyes when he was trying to meet yours. You propped yourself up with your elbows, the air in your room felt cold against your thighs so you closed your legs... only for Levi to part them again.

He wasn't done marking you yet.

"Levi no," you warned him, but he was adamant to give you scattered marks to your hips and inner thighs. This side of him shocked you. He admitted to you he had _some_ experience but boy _how_ _some is some?_ How did he even know how you liked— loved it? He knew what made you moan, jerk, hitch and toe-curl as if he mastered your body like an aged map he familiarized and used for so long.

He positioned himself in front of you, the prickles in his skin reflecting in the muted sunlight, and you took in the view of this perfectly proportioned man.

Your breaths hitched in slow, deep pulses; the toes curling to stop yourself from whispering curses of anticipation. He saw you swallowed the pooling spit behind your tongue, and the dark luster in his eyes glimmered despite being against the light.

You shivered as you moaned his name while he retraced his steps all the way to your stomach until it was too late for you to discern what he was after.

"Levi-" a gasp escaped your lips when he held your thighs to stop you from squirming, planting inhaled kisses just in the inner corners before your core. You tried to get him off, but you wouldn't allow you, his finger digging to your thighs despite your warnings that he shouldn't do this dirty stuff because he hated dirty-

He gave a full lick without warning, then his tongue flicked that little bundle of nerves as you arched your back, but as soon as you did, he stopped.

"Stay still." And every time you squirmed the more frequent he stopped, the more frustrated you've become.

"Levi," you half-screamed his name, scratching his undercut and you can't help but grab a fistful of his hair. You can feel yourself getting nearer, the quivers and the spasms nearly there as you felt him smirk while eating you, and eating you still _even_ when you came.

God, you're seeing stars.

You can't think of anything else but the delicious pulses of his own doing, as he crawled back up and let you taste yourself; a little sweet with the fruits you usually feast on early summer. He grabbed something to wipe his face clean, and proceeded to retrace his steps...

There was sensitivity while you thought he'll give you time to recover from his tongue, until his finger snuck below, stimulating yet again another orgasm while he distracted you of massages and feather light kisses.

Your body instinctively jolted away. He paused momentarily, looking up to you until you relaxed. He wasn't very talkative; so opposite when he usually complains a lot, and it was kind of uncomfortable now that you realized you were making lewd noises together with the slippery sounds.

"Say something." You whispered. It took a while before he parted his lips to say something back.

"You scared?" Your consciousness dawned as the delicious throbbing and spasms in your lower half slowly subsided, but it was there that you couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together. You bit back the moan when you felt the newfound sensation of orgasm, again.

"Not anymore."

Arianne was wrong; he won't ever lay a finger on you again, he won't let you down. He proved this to you for countless of times, on the worst of occasions and every time you thought he was up to no good, or anything between you and him was bound to fail, he proved you wrong and did you better.

You _can_ give him all of you.

You reached out to him, the throbbing subsided, but the sensation of him lingered between your folds. You thought he taught you well when you applied his lessons for him step by step, your hands busy unbuckling his belt, undoing his button, unzipping and pushing the trousers down. You weren't sure if you can do it well though, you might bite him as reflex will tell you...

"Don't do it." He can tell your intentions. "We'll get to that some other time."

"Cheapskate."

He flipped you back, alarmed when you can't see what he will do this time until you felt his weight behind you—

"Levi wait." You scratched the first skin you can, the vision of this familiar position of your bleeding form about to be violated while they bent you over the dumpster resurfaced. He stopped, and he instead tried to flip you to face him, as if assuring you that whoever were those men that did it, he wasn't them.

You didn't let him flip you back.   
He isn't them.   
You're safe.   
It's okay.

_It's okay, it's Levi._

You glanced at him; his lips showered your back with kisses while he took you from behind; your slickness made it easy for him to push himself inside you, as you felt his weight pressing against your skin, and his groan you heard when you felt him slid deeper and deeper. The fullness of his girth and the length of his shaft made your insides clench to accommodate his greedy need for space.

You're getting dizzy in pleasure.

You propped your elbows to support you, and he took the chance to give you circlets of kisses in your jaw to your cheek, as if waiting for your permission to move.

You can feel him smirk in surprise when you slapped his butt cheek, demanding him to move already! You were on edge by the little cockwarming; the next orgasm was just one or two thrusts away.

And when you did _oh_ how your eyes rolled back that you didn't bother to hold back the cry for his name, as he slid s l o w l y and pushed back with equal intensity. The slow, deep thrusts caught the rhythm that worked for the both of you, his hand dug to your hip, the other traced the small of your back.

Then goes the habit of tugging your hair like how he did the first time he attempted a kiss that landed on your palm, but this time, his quiet huffs and groans and curses echoed only for your ear. The rhythm stayed but his thrusts deepened that your skin shivered by how intense he was at the moment; you can feel electricity and warmth all at the same time.

Something sparked and lit up a dam of fire inside you that the past orgasms can't even compare. 

He was rough, but you felt _safe_.   
He was unforgiving, but you felt _loved_.

Then he completely laid on your back, his arms propped to your sides. He bit your nape, his cock stiffened, twitched and you can feel something warm oozed inside...

"Levi, did you just—"

"It's a safe day. I know your cycle, you told me how it worked."

"...cum inside me? Okay, well I guess I better teach myself how to make cotton diapers then."

"You're overreacting."

"It takes one! One sperm, Lev! You just planted mini yous to take over the mission!" He hasn't pulled out yet, taking his time to plant kisses in your cheek with _tchs_ in between while you continue to argue with him. He pulled out and you flipped yourself to face him, a kiss lingered in your forehead.

Sweaty and sticky, he clung to you for a little while before he dragged you to the shower.

"Wouldn't that be nice." And you slapped him in the arm, but you couldn't hide your smile with his post-coital one liner.

* * *

He wanted you to show him how the polaroid works.

You on the other side of the door, the splashing sounds the water made, you talked to him while your hands were busy lathering soap all over your body. You told him the button near the lens was the power button, how the film should be refilled, and the other stuffs which you can tell without the need of demonstration.

"Later, let me finish taking a bath!" Your voice competed against the water splashes.

When you finished, you saw him cozy with tea cup in his fingertips, eyeing you all the while he kept his head low. "How do you feel?" He asked.

"Good...?" You trailed the answer upwards. "Hungry, actually." You put on the long skirt and the shirt, knitted cardigan on standby whenever it gets cold. He watched you complete your look by the socks and the boots, and you didn't even noticed he snapped a photo of you just in time to see you turned to see him.

"Well that came out good."

"That is your standard of good?"

"Hey!" You playfully slapped him in the arm, "it's... aesthetic." You wiggled your eyebrows. "Cute." Then a wink.

He raised the camera in his eye level, taking another picture of you. "Stay still."

You covered the lens, and turned off the power button. "Tsk, can't waste anymore film on me, Lev. Let's go, go go, I wanna walk in the lake!"

" _Near_ the lake, you can't walk on damn water."

"I know I know, but please shut up and let me be right."

You pushed him to get off the seat, the tea abandoned and soon left forgotten.

* * *

You happily munched the boiled corn while walking _near_ the lake.

"This is sweet and juicy." You said to him, huffing the steam in contrast to the cold, purer air. "I wonder how the harvest is going..."

"We took back Maria; water's easier and accessible now that's why we got more food." He ruffled your hair, a gesture of both praise and gratitude.

You chuckled, as you tucked that loose bundle of hair. You mumbled a small thanks under your breath, as you diverted your eyes the other way.

"Levi, it's beautiful out here. You know, the first time I saw Shiganshina, I thought of how your only source of water was that stream that connects all walls together? Well somewhere, some body of water must've connected them right? Do you know that lakes are connected to rivers? And rivers are connected to sea? Sea to ocean? Funny right?"

"What's the difference between them? Water is water. Well, sure some are salty. But it's water."

"There're difference!" You exclaimed, he was looking around, then you saw his finger hooked to yours. You let him get comfortable with your cold fingertips, until he confirmed no one was in sight and he fully engaged your fingers with his.

"What difference?"

"Well, there's salty and fresh water, depending on that, the fishes and creatures that lived there." 

He listened to you mumble about the slippery kind of fishes and how bears would eat their staple salmon fresh from the rocks, the seaweeds and kelp that he was kind of repulsed but made him promise to try...

"You like taking pictures don't you?" You observed.

"It's not bad."

"Can I take a picture of—"

"No."

"Please?"

"I didn't stutter."

You copied his mannerism _Tch_ _,_ but tightened the hold in his hand.

* * *

He watched you talk about Hitler pointing that words did a lot to change someone's perception. "He swayed people joining his cause by speeches, _words_ , Lev. If I remember right. He's charisma is something else! Kinda like..." you stopped, thinking it might trigger some memory he would rather bury.

"Erwin?"   
"Erwin." Then you snapped a photo of him.

"Oi, _runt_." He warned you.  
"Sorry!" You squeaked, thank goodness the flash was off, and the struggle to keep yourself from laughing was a challenge; anxious that he might notice, you zoomed the camera too much and it became like this.

But he sure was quite eager to peek at the photo of him. "You like it?" Your nose flared to stifle the hearty chuckle. He didn't give a single response.

"I like it. I'll keep it okay?"   
"It's bad."   
"Nah."

The food came in later, he took you to a place where him and Erwin would frequent when they wanted to have a meal with Miche and Hange. The food was quite delicious; saucy, and seasoned well. A little hearty and greasy but to you he seemed to appreciate that you were not nibbling around the food.

The walk and talks continued and ended in a walk in the forest, while he took the camera and snapped a picture of the wide trail.

"You know, you could be photographer in our world." You smiled at him. "You see things better than most people." And you weren't talking about what can be seen by bare eyes.

"No, I'll open a teashop and that's it."

"What tea do you think they'll enjoy?"

"What tea do you have in your world?"

"Well, the basic is black— you drink that. Then there's hmmm, Darjeeling, Matcha? Chamomile, Earl grey, Roses? Is that a thing? But there's that milk tea too— I-I'm a coffee drinker, Lev. Sorry can't help you with that."

"You can help with the sales."

"And the building. And the interior."

"You teach me the outsourcing, I'll do the marketing."

"Yeah?" You raised an eyebrow. "You already thought that much?"

"Got a slogan ready to go."

"Hit me with it."

"One cup a day, keeps the fuckers away."

"Not bad!" Your pig-like snorts came out until you couldn't handle it in and let out a laugh.

But you didn't miss that faint smile in his mouth.   
How you wished this day doesn't end.

The banter came on and went, until the time demanded you to go home.

* * *

You were a shaking mess the second time Levi made love to you. He took his time slowly, more than anyone should've in the books you've read and pondered over, as if he will be missing you for a long time.

The blue and yellow lights looked _moviesque_ of 2000s while the beats of 70's love songs could've lulled you to sleep.

"You should sleep." But his voice was enough.

"After I see you off tomorrow." You kissed his palm. "I doesn't feel right to sleep."

"You're tired. I'm not going anywhere, not until tomorrow."

"Promise me." You needed that kind of reassurance, given that the recent evidence of betrayal told you why you shouldn't.

He looked at you, then planted a kiss in your forehead.

"Promise me, Levi." 

"Sleep, F/N."

Your eyelids felt heavy in exhaustion.  
But before you fall deeper to slumber, you felt a prick in your neck, and everything melted to black.   
  


You woke up in the beep of oxymeter, the strong smell of hospital-grade disinfectant, and your mother crying in glee.  
  


***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't make the last one on time, but at least I got to produce 2 chapters these long in 1 day. 
> 
> It took me a while to do this, it was so difficult to look for the exact photos I wanted to show, and if you noticed, F/N was just a shadow although in the story, Levi took a photo of her— I think F/N's features should be left to the reader's imagination. So she could be any race, any facial feature. But I had to align to the story that she was thin because she usually forgets to eat and sleep.
> 
> Also, that photo of Levi was from an AOT exhibit back 2020, I think. They made a wax figure of him.
> 
> So it was such a fun day, what went wrong?
> 
> We are down to only one chapter now. We gotta push, friends!
> 
> See you soon! Very soon!
> 
> Photo sources, all credits to:   
> (1) https://pin.it/3Tu7Cl7  
> (2) https://pin.it/skF3Imq  
> (3) https://pin.it/4B56mZg  
> (4) https://pin.it/1yOweqb
> 
> Thank you so much to these artistic people. Please feel free to copy paste the link, they were creative to take pictures like this!


	33. Ultimate Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers ahead.

_Levi_. 

"Hey honey," your mom cooed and sobbed when her face registered in your line of vision. She brushed your hair with her fingers and it lightly pulled your neck by the tangles it formed. The tugs were painful to you; actually, every muscle screamed ceasfire to contractions they made. The last thing you remembered was a prick in your neck while Levi giving you a kiss in your forehead.

"Levi..." You whispered. He was the last thing you saw and the first thing you wanted to see. You heard your mother sniffed her relief. You sat up, ignoring the screams of protest your muscles made; your head painfully pulsating on each of the sides. You uprooted the needles in your arms, the transparent thing that could be saline and other stuffs you didn't need will ooze out from the needles later on. Your mother was still crying— where is he?

"Who brought me here?" You spoke what strength you had as you staggered to get out of bed. No shoes, no anything— it didn't matter, he couldn't have left you...

Right?

"Mom, where is he?" You asked your mother who had not stopped wiping her tears. You can't— don't have time to cry, you needed to see him off first, he can't just leave you hanging like this. He promised he will let you see him off; you promised to stay with him— _wait_ for him and right now, it didn't matter if titans ransack the walls or the Rumbling activates or everything just turned to shit.

"Who?" No one was at the bathroom.

"The man— he's short, mean looking, 90's hair, undercut, cravat, h-he was wearing a suit mom..." you gasped for air, as the world swirled and almost faded to white. You stabilized yourself by the doorknob, scared that you might miss him by a second if you stayed rested any longer.

"Who..?"

"I'm suppose to send him off today!" You said in frustration. The panic threatened to spew in angry shots of bile; you ran out of your room, the then phobic scent of disinfectant was now a reminder of cleanliness you associated with him. You heard someone's voice and hurried footsteps behind you, but there's just no time to look back, you might miss him...

Anemia and the sudden, strong daylight triggered the worst vertigo you ever had; honking of cars and the drift of their wheels almost ate what was left of your head to tolerate.

"Crazy ass bitch, you tryna die or what?!" Someone said, but it wasn't him; the curses he spoke had more sass and coolness to them. You looked around, back were the screams of attention from your mother chasing you, and the honks of the cars and the tasteless curses and the murmurs of the gathering crowd and the buzzes of hospital security devoured what sanity you had left.

The pants were getting heavier, your own body felt heavy that your knees gave out. You can't hear anything but the high pitched tinnitus ringing in your ears. The images your eyes reflected didn't register in your head. You were trying harder to scan the crowd for any sign of him, Iris scent, soap, fancy ass suit, — _any_ trace of him will do...

You felt that familiar way of stroking your hair as your mother attempted to protect you with an embrace. She was saying something— pleading about something but only the last words stuck in your head.

"No man was here, F/N." she repeatedly whispered, lulling you with warmth and harsh words. She too, you just realized, was trembling. He left you, he sent you back— did he think you can't help them from then on? Were you a nuisance to him? A liability? Did he realize he didn't like the thought of someone waiting for him after all? He spoke of dreams and futures with you, and he said he saw you in it. Then why didn't he trust you were capable of putting up for your own when the worst comes to?

More than what he fights to live, more than what happens from thereon, for as long as you know he is reachable, you know you can bear anything.

Because anything was less terrifying than knowing you might not be with him again.

_You don't belong here! Stop forcing pieces that don't fit!_

He showed you how much he was capable of loving, and it was the love that you thought you could accept as your own.

And a day was all it took for him to take it away.

"No short man brought you home, F/N. Arianne did."

The beating of reality stabbed and mangled your insides worse than a hit and run ever could.

He left you.

Your mother's last words you didn't want to believe. Then came nothingness but the muffled honks of the cars. 

* * *

You woke up in the same bed, tied up on one foot. With the little strength you gathered from what you knew to be a deep sleep, you tried to free yourself, but muscles, though heavily rested, were stiff.

"Hey honey," your mother approached you with an apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry we had to do this, you kind of went frenzy few hours ago. If you promise not to do that, we'll let you go."

You heard the creak from your door, "Mom, she's not four! And why is Issy still tied up? Told you to undo it, that's detention, mom!" Your older sister talked back for you. She's the sister who was always away for work, but somehow, you were an exception to stop the work travels. She walked over, undoing the cloth they tied you in.

"She ran away, what can we do? She nearly died on car accident! The world will see loss if she died because she didn't know how to look from left to right!"

"Oh, mom," Sharon, you sister, hugged you, and you felt pressure on the top of your head. "You look... dead, what happened to you?"

You didn't even know how to start, or if they will believe you if you told them.

"Okay," she sat in your bed. "Issy, Arianne brought you here, don't you remember?" You shook your head.

"Did you see a short, mean looking guy? He wore a suit last time, or maybe he was wearing a gray button down shirt or just plain white long sleeves..." you could hear your own desperation in your whispers. The tears came in, slowly at first, then the burst of loss and defeat in your chest hurt was too painful you wanted to scream.

"F/N, there's no man like that." Your sister whispered, all the while stroking your hair. "It's just us. Arianne's on the other room if you wanna talk to her, I'll bring you."

She pressed the call button, telling the attending nurse that you needed a wheelchair. Minutes later, you were knocking at her door; her mother opened it for you. Arianne was sleeping, and you observed that she too, lost some weight.

"Ari..." you heard her mother as she shook her gently. "Ari, wake up, F/N's here." She sat up after a few seconds, but she didn't seem to have slept at all.

"Mom?" She spoke. "Can you give us an hour to talk?" 

* * *

"You have questions." She started, taking the chance to drink from the bottled water as if it will be a long talk. After all, you felt like an hour was not enough with the universe of questions you had in your head.

Then you picked the question of how you got back to start from.

She told you that Hange and Levi visited her a couple of times while you worked, discussing the generator-freedom bargain. This, you knew already, and you were getting impatient of the things you needed to know to change how you perceive that image of Levi deciding for you.

Then she told you that Levi, much to Hange's surprise, agreed that you too, have to go home with Arianne.

"Why?" You asked. "He thought I can't handle myself?"

"No, no, F/N. He told me the first time he saw you was you singing in a public podium. 'Horrible singer' that's what he told me, but... I saw how his eyes recalled you back then— I'm not making this up, he told me not to tell you anything though, I'm breaking my promise with him." This, you didn't know.

"So what if he saw me singing Ed Sheeran?"

"He said you looked... 'better' was his word. I think he meant you were healthier back then." She exhaled as she attached a familiar, yellow satin in your wrist, a few more centimeters of allowance were there now. Your eyes lingered to your reflection in the mirror: pale, no eye bags, but sunken eyes, prominent cheekbones, the veins in your neck bulging like a sharp road hump that didn't do justice to the marks he left in your nape. Your fingers travelled in your chest, the marks he left you were the only things adorning the almost skeletal contours of your body.

And the relief started to drop and trickle to your cheeks as your defeated posture reflected in the mirror.

A trace of him he left with you; a soothing reminder that what you've been through with him was real, and that sign of acknowledgement and pride that you left Paradis with the _legacy_ that will stay with them for a long time.

He wanted to keep you safe. He probably told Arianne the line: 'Better far than dead.' The thought made you smile.

"He told me to give that to you, and that Hange was thankful for all the help you gave them."

Then she went on their plan to have Levi sedate you— one that she brought with her in case you didn't want to go home— and her bring you home with the portal she had, connected to the parent portal that luckily was still secured and working. Arianne did her magic, she used the portal again to get you both to a hospital. She called your father, convinced him that she didn't abduct or murder you and she was on the run to find you to prove her innocence.

It took four days for your body to wake up in a hospital bed. Your father was convinced of her innocence; your mother however, was still cautious of Arianne's intentions, but soon dropped it and the charges when she also saw the state she was in.

She wasn't as thin as you, but she had no nails in her feet. She said in a chuckle that Levi did it to her, only when he forced her to admit that the portal she gave you was slightly different or 'off', in his words, compared to the portal Arianne brought with her.

Then he forced Arianne to wear boots to cover up the painful deed from you, and to keep the torture going while Arianne helped you with the generator. It must've been painful for her feet, but luckily, she didn't have to do legwork like you bounced back and forth the Factory city and Survey headquarters. You thought that it was probably one of the reasons aside from keeping an eye on her, that she couldn't walk too far.

Then Arianne complained to you that he threatened her to not tell you what he did. You can picture him thinking that the nail removal was perfect to start Arianne's stay debut because that was the start of the pain you had to go through to reach the Survey Corps.

"...or else, he will be sending you home _without_ me if I told you he tortured me before release." Arianne completed her story.

It was a well-orchestrated scheme for a painful decision.

The one day he spent with you was probably his goodbye.

"One last thing," Arianne said. "I did somethings, so I hope we're even. You didn't exactly die, did you?"

"And you think that's enough reason to forgive you? I can't even hate you when I'm dead." You tied your hair with the yellow satin. "What did you do this time?"

She told you to go over her bag she came in with. "I grabbed those in your house before we left, but I left your photo in there. He might miss you or use it as a fap material if he visits your house there— I dunno."

The photos you both took.   
His close-up, annoyed face.

You couldn't help but trace his eyes. He thought this shot was ugly. To you, it was a beautiful reminder.

"F/N, I'm so sorry."

"The damage is done." You swallowed the tears.

"I also did another thing."

"What?" You didn't have the strength to listen anymore.

"I... fixed your defective portal... and left instructions on how to use it. I don't know if he will ever come out alive, but if he will, it's in the drawer of his office."

"What?" Hope swell on you. You clutched her wrist, demanding her to tell you again as if you heard wrong.

"I left your fixed portal in his office with instructions." She exhaled deeply, and went on the words. "He didn't know, but I'm pretty sure he saw it already. And if this isn't enough apology, I want you to know that I won't patent the portal in my name anymore. I'll have you included as pioneer in the Nobel as well."

"You can have those shit, I don't care. But I want you to do me a favor for the _last_ time." Hope in every breath.

"Tell me."

"Keep the parent portal open, or I'll prompt Nobel committee you're a fraud." You remembered the scraps of evidence just sitting, locked away in your apartment.

"That's the plan." She smiled. "Also, I didn't think it will come from _me_ , but I think you found a _good_ man, F/N." 

* * *

_Perth, Australia_

The therapist was insisting that you had an eating disorder the first time she saw you. You told her you never had one. A tunnel vision perhaps— too focused on a single task without giving a flying fuck to anything else. Then she said that she 'understood' but 'most of them tells the same thing'.

You had to put down the manga, the frustration of Hange's death made you give her a little something to play her head with, quit the therapy and look for someone to help you with your arms instead.

You told her being skinny didn't mean you had one, because before you were even _that_ thin, you were naturally thin and petite. The Shadis workout made you gain muscles and lost them when the workload and malnutrition burnt you out.

But, in all honesty, you were determined to be healthier now that a mini him or you, or both, housed your womb.

The three pregnancy test kits can't be false positive at this rate.

You weren't showing yet; it was just a month ago that you found out, after the period didn't come. You thought it was because you were a little skinny, but it wasn't that; the nausea any time of the day, the tenderness of the breasts, then when you thought it was the period coming out, the succeeding days confirmed that it was just your body getting rid of the old blood in preparation for the baby.

You thought it was bad he did it inside, thinking about it now, he really did you one to remember him for a long time. And Ackergenes were kind of a kicker because it only took him _one_ day to get you.

_Not bad, Lev._

You were working late again, somehow became a habit when you left Paradis. You had to sleep after that tea in your hand— no coffee for you now. You skimmed through the nth thesis related to General Relativity, Special Relativity and the effect of time dilation— all and anything associated with time traveling.

Because looking at the direction of the manga, you were determined to find a way to redo the whole thing, and this time, you will have to make it right.

That was the main reason; there were two more.

You remembered that contraband of the Kenny Squad; the mechanism was similar to what you made during the 57th expedition. There wasn't any accounts as to who made the design, but it can't be someone from the government— Hange, Armin and Erwin were the most brilliant of them all, Hange being the 'techy' among them, but she didn't make it.

It was just a hunch, but what if, what if _, you_ did this before, just not in this lifetime? A hundred years back, thousands— you don't know. But something told you, you were involved with them some other time and you left an account of your 'past' existence like how you did with Paradis— presumably there was an attempt of your 'past' self to rectify or do something differently.

You don't know, right?  
Or maybe this is the _last_ time you have to revise something.  
Because he's coming _home_.

You can't help but feel hope swell in your chest.

The last reason was childish.

Arianne _completely_ owned the work, but at least she was good enough to stay true to her word. She kind of mentioned to you in the letter she sent you that the government expropriated the work before she can even get it patented. Sucks for her— patent makes you rich, expropriation? Not that much.

The government took the portal for themselves, in a unreasonably low price, much to your panic, but Arianne bargained with them: she made them another one, sparing the parent portal that Levi might use if he ever came out of the war alive.

You couldn't even care for as long as she upholds her end of the bargain. After all, you still have her neck with the Nobel committee.

You just moved to Perth, Australia, now working for Kinetic IT and independently working on time traveling with the goal of winning a Nobel by yourself.

You live in an apartment with a balcony, a telescope for a starry night, no plants, just with a dog you named Scout— Scouting Legion in longer name but one calls him that.

Just like you told him.

Your mother and your sister kept calling you every hour in alternate worried you might be working too much or not sleeping or not eating at all. But the baby always keep you in check. They were shocked when they found out you were pregnant. They still didn't know what actually happened during your disappearance, but your mother and father pointed out that something changed about the way you carried yourself. Your mother even accused that you were probably raped, you just didn't know, and insisted that the baby gets aborted.

You had to tell them you knew the father, but he's not reachable at the moment because he's a soldier.

Your mother wasn't very happy when she found out you didn't graduate with honors or anything closer to perfect, but you bowed with confidence and conviction to let _you_ decide what to do with the remaining life you have.

Levi taught you that you always have a choice.

This time, you're choosing the option that makes you feel _alive._

There were more arguments why they expected you to follow them— you were a prodigy. 'If you write, the readers will love it!' was her line. You had to tell her that your professors thought otherwise.

They only gave up when you told them you _will_ be doing a paper on time traveling, put it to application, present the theory to the Nobel committee and have the thing patented before the government gets a good sniff of that delicious meal.

All of that, in one and a half month.

There's a knock on your door, probably Bane again; Sharon always flirt with the guy, but your sister told you that he was either gay or just plain interested with someone else.

But why is he knocking just before midnight?

You walked to your door, peeped— safety's first, and when you confirmed it was Bane, _again,_ you open the door.

"Hi." You greeted him.

"Hey," he said in a raspy voice as he scratched his beard. You can hear the teasing of his friends behind his door. "you, uh, want some Moussaka? I kind of told my friends I have a neighbor now, like a welcome party?"

You glanced at his male friends by the door, and smiled.

"We have alcohol, it's Sunday night, come on out, we're having fun, F/N."

"I'm sorry, Bane I have to sleep now. And I can't take alcohol."

"Oh." You heard the disappointment in his voice. "That so? That's a bummer."

"Yeah..." you nodded as your tone lingered upwards, "I'm pregnant and my husband wouldn't want to see that." You made sure to flash that gold 'wedding' ring to ward off men like him.

Because for some reason, Aussie men find you attractive.

"Sorry, and have fun." You could hear him about to say his line before you closed the door.

You stroke your belly while counting the days that you'll have to wait for him.

 _It wouldn't be long_ , you convince yourself. The releases of the manga is something you look forward to, and dread all at the same time.

You turned off the lights, relieved to know that Levi lived through 133.

Your thoughts lingered if he will live through 134, and you can hardly wait for the 4th of November, and the succeeding chapters to come.   
  


_Fin._

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story has come to an end.
> 
> Thank you for being a part of that lost loser's memoir.
> 
> This whole fanfic was sparked by Gravity by Embrace. Funny how one song made this all possible.
> 
> That and your encouraging comments I always, always look forward to. Thank you so much. 
> 
> As promised, the ALTERNATIVE ENDING would be her, not getting pregnant, but nevertheless, stay in Perth. She grabs another manga because she thought one of the male characters was cute. Thereby rendering her whole adventure, sacrifice and romance with Levi meaningless.
> 
> To add salt to the injury, he wouldn't know that she plans to travel again, on that manga she picked out. Thus, if Levi got through everything, and came out alive there will be no one waiting for him.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the story, see you in the next fandom!


	34. Gamble to Win

4:58 AM and the phone was ringing.

You stood, the nap of an hour was unsatisfactorily cut off by an oppressive phone call. It was one Saturday, and someone had the guts to wake up a pregnant woman after pulling an all-nighter when your secretary pulled out some serious references both of you had been trying to get access for months. You _just_ have to read all of them in one sitting, even if it took you a night to dawn to finish all of them. The mess you made in your makeshift office, the tea bags of dandelion filled the now empty cup, you sat up to see the caller ID.

_FRUSTRATED MURDERER_ Was what it said.

"God, Arianne." You looked at the clock.

4:59 AM

"Look, if it's him or about them, tell me. But if you're having a mental breakdown because you can't solve shit, I _don't_ care. At least not until 6 AM." You lowered the phone but a shout you caught before you could tap the red circle.

 _"He's here, F/N!"_ The shout said, and there was a pause before she repeated the same line replaced with his name. 

_"H-Hello? F/N? HELLO?!"_ You heard her as your consciousness gone back to you. Aware of how staggered your breathing had been, you were quite thankful you didn't stand or else your knees will give out on you. Carrying the bump had been the most challenging activity all the while that the _boys_ became heavy; your center of gravity now more on your front. 

_"Hello?"_ She said again, _"Earth to bitch, are you okay?"_

"Y-Yes..." You said, the tears of relief were coming in. Your voice cracked when you tried to speak. "Yes. C-Can I talk to him?" 

_"Just tell me your coordinates, I'm gonna send him to you know."_ You heard the creaking loud like the walls were splitting apart. You knew the parent portal was opening now. You heard the raspy, deep and smooth complaint, the threatening command to give Levi the phone. You distracted yourself from another meltdown of another second of not being with him, and you knew that every wave of your hand to write a number, symbols and letters were a step closer of meeting him. 

Finally, you can stop crossing the boxes in your calendar.

"Hello?"

 _"How do I get to you?"_ The raspy, demanding, low tone he makes-- it _is_ him. You heard the passive annoyance from Arianne _(the bitch better give the docx...)_ , as she typed in the keyboard and the creaks in that particular chair you hated when you were still working back there.

 _"Hurry up, fake son of a bitch."_ The monotony of calmness and the stern gritting of his teeth reflected in the tone in his voice as he commanded Arianne to hurry up.

"U-Um," You had to bite your lip to keep you from crying. "I'm sending her the coordinates now." You said, the draft in your email and you typed the coordinates on your rooftop. 

_"I'll be sent to you?"_ You heard the dragging of the chair, the wheels rubbing the cold hard floor. _"What am I, a parcel now?"_ You laughed at his dry sense of humor. 

"It's not the height, Lev." There was a pause and you knew you said something that offended him. "I'm sorry."

_"You far? Why don't you come here?"_ You heard that string of impatience in his voice. Apparently, Arianne didn't tell him, or she probably didn't know you're pregnant herself. You cut all ties with her after the hospital talk, and the tabs you kept only for this purpose. She saw this coming: the bad treatment that came from him, and as much as you were sorry she was being pushed around, you're not sorry that she's not a part of your life anymore. One thing you learned about people like her was if circumstances warranted betrayal, she would not hesitate to do it again, because she tasted your forgiveness and will bet on it once she needed a benefit. Then she will try how far she can go with your patience, bordering your limits just enough to give her what she wanted and the distance she wanted from you because she doesn't actually give a fuck. You're not angry at what she _did_ , you're disappointed at what _she_ become.

When _people_ change for the worse, that's where you end things. You're better off with Scout the dog than in bad company.

"I'm... not really in the best position to travel far right now. You're 18 hours away from me." You bit your lip, you heard Arianne told him to step in the conveyor. "Levi just do as she says. She won't send you somewhere, she has so much to lose."

_"I don't trust her."_

"Then trust me when I said you have to ride the conveyor and it will take you to me."

" _Tch. You better have a good reason for not picking me up instead."_

 _"_ Oh you'll be surprised." You song-sung the hang up in the middle of his sentence, skepticism getting the best of him. The giddiness overrode the nausea, as you stood, tying your hair with that yellow tie, eager to start your morning ritual. Normally, mornings were dull and routinely to you, but today it wasn't. The reason of today's difference will be in the rooftop by mere seconds.

Soon, he will be with you.

Well, the _four_ of you.

* * *

He was in a suit in a sunny, windy day at the rooftop.

The clean shaven undercut, symmetrical at the back of his head, the short height and the lengthening proud stance overlooking the city. His hands were in his pockets, as if covering the loss of fingers behind the fabric.

It may be in his pockets now, but complete or not, you were happier if his fingers were between the spaces of yours.

"Levi?" You said, and he turned to you; you anticipated he will be missing some parts, the scar in his face, the closed, blind eye... damaged good is how people might describe him until they know the story of his scars. Until they learned that each stitch has a tale of how much he had to give in exchange for a life he wanted to have. In your world, medals, stripes and badges to touch up and fill the gaping hole of loss on the countless comrades he had to sacrifice to get somewhere. To some people it worked, but to him, they really didn't do anything but to romanticize the worst of decisions and losses. Each of them he had promises he counted and fulfilled one by one, until what he was left with the promise to keep, not as Captain Levi Ackermann of the Survey Corps, not as the Humanities' strongest, but just Levi, the space he was willing to give to you. Still small and growing, for now, but you had time, _finally_ , to widen and paint the space with his favorite color: you.

"Took you long enough," His eyes landed in your stomach faster than his twisting attacks would, his eyes glaring dangerously in the very obvious bump in your middle area. It was a curious stare at first, until it got suspicious. The stare said it all.

"I'm not the one who didn't pullout okay? That was you. Don't blame me." You walked briskly, almost unaware of your altered center of gravity until you had to catch your breath due to the nausea. He caught you just in time as you swung your arms around him for an embrace.

"I can't have these babies on my own and fuck you for sending me back." The tears were coming in. 

He inhaled sharply, letting you cling to him as tightly as space allowed. His hands were limp in his side, seemingly no intention to wrap them around you; your back missing his warmth, the touch of his callous hands from the blades, and that immaculate smell of Iris and fresh soap. It was surprising that as rejecting your olfactory can get through your pregnancy, his scent was something always so pleasant and comforting to you. 

"I missed you." You said, the sobs of relief and longing. "I missed you so much."

Only then did he slowly wrapped one hand around you, the other was kept in his pocket.

You stayed that way for seemingly a long time and when you tried to unsnake your arms around him, he almost didn't let you as if he was hiding something. When he finally let you go, he bowed his head and hid his eyes under the cover of his fringe, his palm tightened to a fist. You cupped his cheek, your thumb about to trace that scar running in it. 

Doubt for your acceptance probably played on his head when he caught your hand to stop you from tracing the evidence of his disgrace.

"It's just me, Levi."

Seconds after your incessant silent pleads, he let your fingers traced the scar that run in his eye; and the stitches that closed it. You looked at his face; the then air of arrogance in his demeanor gone in the shadows of self-pity. He tried to hide it by correcting his posture, but you saw the effort in covering the shame and self-consciousness that you might perceive him as useless.

"Please, let me see your face." You whispered, and you had to guide his face to met your eyes.

"I understand if you wouldn't like _this_." He said, gray eye averting your gaze. Some wounds were red and some swollen. "You don't have to force yourself because you feel sorry for me."

"Is that why you came here? Because if that's how you think I'll do, you wouldn't bother coming here." You whispered as your fingers continued to trace the _glory_ sculpted in his face. "Look at me, Lev." And he did, after a few seconds more.

He met your eyes, the seriousness and the pool of unsaid words unparalleled as if he will be mad any second. The look in them was as if he wanted to scream; as if he wanted to show a proper, valid, humanly emotions that he wasn't allowed to do because of the expectation in the titles that he had been thrown to carry. 

And now you wondered if he gone over without settling things of proper goodbyes.

Then the gaze that came after was tender, like the one he gave at Historia's coronation, confirming that he came here after grieving and deciding to start a life he planned and postponed for nearly all the life that's left him. If there's one thing you were sorry for, it was how much he had to give until the payment was arbitrarily decided to be enough.

"Thought I'll give you that choice if you still want what's left of... _this._ " The silence in his words. 

"Of course I do." You slightly tiptoed to meet his scars with your lips, him, supporting your weight with his arms. You offered your hand, your eyes telling him to take out the other hand off his pockets. "Don't be silly, you have no idea how much I've been waiting for _you_."

"No." he said, his hand remained tight under the fabric. 

"You're going to take it out sooner or later." He looked at you, shook his head and took out the hand lacking of fingers. You took what were left in it between your fingers, and it fit , finally, in this very second, _everything_ seemed to fit perfectly. 

It was the start you wanted, _incomplete_ , but perfect.

"The guy who knocked you up, he's a lucky guy." He said, that slight smile in his eyes.

"Oh I can tell you he's a very grumpy man in a 90's haircut." You lead him to your apartment, his hand tied to yours as if you'll fall or gone if he lets go. You didn't remember him this clingy, but you kind of had an idea his love language was physical touch with all the ruffling of hair back then, and will continue now. "He's an ex-soldier about to pull the strings for a new identity. There's so many things I can tell about him..."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hm."

"Like what?"

"He'll be a father of twin boys."

He looked at you with subtle disbelief. Your giggles filled the pause as he composed himself. "Hope they take after their mother then." 

"Nah, I'll love it if they take after your nose."

"What about my nose?"

"It's perky and cute."

* * *

"Hey." He told you, kiss on your cheek as your eyes glanced a second to his direction and back to the monitor of your PC. He looked good in a three-piece suit; British cut did him best. The cravat remained though, never did he liked wearing the tie-- said it's distracting, and changing the color ever so often cuts so much time just to pair it up. You thought the kiss was going to end there when he suddenly pulled you for the trail of kisses he knew you were weak at. He twisted the chair you were on to give him your full attention and he continued, angling your face to deepen his kisses. You tapped to signal him you needed air, telling him the food was ready and he can take a bath as you take the time to reheat them.

"How's the boys?"

"They're sleeping." here goes the trail of kisses and your giggles in between. "Your secretary called for you awhile ago."

"She should've called me on my phone."

"She said you weren't answering."

"I was trying to take a deal, what did she say?" both of you were talking in whispers. 

"Some A-line model wanted your security services for an event they have to attend in Milan. They leave tomorrow."

"I'll call her back," she ruffled your hair. Some things never changed. "thank you." 

"Hey wake up, dad's here." The thud from a kick in the bed followed by the groggy "I'm up." from your other boy. You suddenly didn't know where Levi was; "Your dad's downstairs, probably taking a shower."

"Who are you talking to?" He said, kissing your forehead.

"Your... boys... didn't you see them?" The alarm in your face. He wasn't here just a while ago, was he?

"What boys? You're tired, you should sleep."

"After I see you off tomorrow." You kissed his palm. "I doesn't feel right to sleep." The conversation was familiar.

"You're tired. I'm not going anywhere, not until tomorrow."

"Promise me." 

He looked at you, then planted a kiss in your forehead.

"Promise me, Levi."

"Sleep, F/N."

You woke up, your chest stung and heavy, the sobs weren't stopping, the dream was too good you wanted it to last longer. 

4:58 AM.

You curled your legs, hugging them as far as your bump can take you. The warmth of the blankets stopped to be enough for a long time, so did your tears that tasted bland every time you thought life was too much to carry. You longed for him, and dreams like those made it better while it last and worse when it's over. You sat up, swallowing the tears of seeming hopelessness like the hundreds of days since he sentenced you that you had to carry on everything by your own. 

Giving up was an option, you've thought about that for so long, so often it tempted you, but there was that tiny, _miserable_ hope tugging you in the chest, playing in your head that maybe, _maybe_ he will come here.

 _Maybe anytime today._ You whispered to yourself, like every other day you waited as you carried on with your life like it didn't hurt.

There was a ring on your phone.

_FRUSTRATED MURDERER_ was what it said.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiyo beautiful people!
> 
> It came to my attention that the ending of the story was a little too... heartbreaking. It's my dominant self screaming to me to end things that way and keep it faithful to the timeline canon, but since the fluff me is coming out whispering things like I should give the story a happy ending, here's one. Sort of. It's open for interpretation of whether the dream comes true and Arianne the bitch friend is calling you, or just some prank call or your secretary.
> 
> I hope, when AoT ends, you guys remember this fic.


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